All Men Owe Honor To The Poets

Just Are The Ways Of Heaven; From Heaven Proceed The Woes Of Man: Heaven Doom'd The Greeks To Bleed.

Our Fruitless Labours Mourn, And Only Rich In Barren Fame Return.

Not Vain The Weakest, If Their Force Unite.

Proud Is The Spirit Of Zeus-fostered Kings - Their Honor Comes From Zeus, And Zeus, God Of Council, Loves Them.

And By The Sacred Parchment, I Swear That If I Reveal The Secrets Of The Stonecutters, May My Stomach Become Bloated And My Head Be Plucked Of All But Three Hairs