By Their Own Follies They Perished, The

Come, Weave Us A Scheme So I Can Pay Them Back! Stand Beside Me, Athena, Fire Me With Daring, Fierce As The Day We Ripped Troy's Glittering Crown Of Towers Down. Stand By Me - Furious Now As Then, My Bright-eyed One - And I Would Fight Three Hundred Men, Great Goddess, With You To Brace Me, Comrade-in-arms In Battle!

It Is Not Strength, But Art, Obtains The Prize, And To Be Swift Is Less Than To Be Wise.

If You Are Very Valiant, It Is A God, I Think, Who Gave You This Gift.

Let Me Not Then Die Ingloriously And Without A Struggle, But Let Me First Do Some Great Thing That Shall Be Told Among Men Hereafter.

There Is No Greater Glory That Can Befall A Man That What He Achieves With The Speed Of His Feet Or The Strength Of His Hands.