From A Just Fraud God Turneth Not

Joy Steals Upon Me, Such Joy As Calls Forth Tears.

[hermes Addresses Prometheus :] To You, The Clever And Crafty, Bitter Beyond All Bitterness, Who Has Sinned Against The Gods In Bestowing Honors Upon Creatures Of A Day--to You, Thief Of Fire, I Speak.

For Mortal Kind Taketh Thought Only For The Day, And Hath No More Surety Than The Shadow Of Smoke.

Ask The Gods Nothing Excessive.

To Many Mortals Silence Great Gain Brings.