But When The Dust Has Drunk The

O Death The Healer, Scorn Thou Not, I Pray, To Come To Me: Of Cureless Ills Thou Art The One Physician. Pain Lays Not Its Touch Upon A Corpse.

Time Cleanses What It Touches Over Time.

To Many Mortals Silence Great Gain Brings.

Long Tarries Destiny, But Comes To Those Who Pray.

Know Not To Revere Human Things Too Much.