Do Not Mourn The Dead With The

Zeus Most Glorious And Most Great, Thundercloud, Throned In The Heavens! Let Not The Sun Go Down And The Darkness Come, Until I Cast Down Headlong The Citadel Of Priam In Flames, And Burn His Gates With Blazing Fire, And Tear To Rags The Shirt Upon Hectors Breast! May Many Of His Men Fall About Him Prone In The Dust And Bite The Earth!

She Spoke And Loosened From Her Bosom The Embroidered Girdle Of Many Colors Into Which All Her Allurements Were Fashioned. In It Was Love And Int Desire Which Steals The Mind Even Of The Wise.

His Native Home Deep Imag'd In His Soul.

No Season Now For Calm, Familiar Talk.

Porkchops And Bacon, My Two Favorite Animals.