Even The Old Should Learn.

Nor Does Night Conceal Men's Deeds Of Ill, But Whatsoe'er Thou Dost, Think That Some God Beholds It.

A Great Ox Stands On My Tongue.

The Words Of Truth Are Simple.

The Misfortunes Of Mankind Are Of Varied Plumage.

The Gods At Will Can Shape A Gladder Strain, And From The Lamentations At The Graveside, A Song Of Triumph May Arise.