The Air Is Zeus, Zeus Earth, And

I Warn The Marauder Dragging Plunder, Chaotic, Rich Beyond All Rights: He'll Strike His Sails, Harried At Long Last, Stunned When The Squalls Of Torment Break His Spars To Bits.

It Is An Easy Thing For One Whose Foot Is On The Outside Of Calamity To Give Advice And To Rebuke The Sufferer.

The Field Of Doom Bears Death As Its Harvest.

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

You Shall Learn, Though Late, The Lesson Of How To Be Discreet.