Shame Is No Comrade For The Poor,

Nothing In The World Is So Incontinent As A Man's Accursed Appetite.

It Never Was Our Guise To Slight The Poor, Or Aught Humane Despise.

And Overpowered By Memory Both Men Gave Way To Grief. Priam Wept Freely For Man - Killing Hector, Throbbing, Crouching Before Achilles' Feet As Achilles Wept Himself, Now For His Father, Now For Patroclus Once Again And Their Sobbing Rose And Fell Throughout The House.

Do I Know What Rhetorical Means?

Why So Much Grief For Me? No Man Will Hurl Me Down To Death, Against My Fate. And Fate? No One Alive Has Ever Escaped It, Neither Brave Man Nor Coward, I Tell You - It’s Born With Us The Day That We Are Born.