The Evils Of Mortals Are Manifold; Nowhere

No One Can Count The Terrors That The Earth Spawns, Catastrophic, Gruesome, And The Vast Arms Of The Sea Swarm With Brute Monsters Bent On Harm, And Everywhere Between The Sky And Ground Lights Bloom By Day In Flares And Sudden Bolts; And Birds And Beasts Alike Can Tell Of The Whirlwind's Whirling Wrath.

No Bribes. Nothing That Passes Under The Roof Of A Temple Or Under The Roof Of The Mouth, Can Appease Heaven's Anger Or Deflect Its Aim.

By Time And Age Full Many Things Are Taught.

The Moving Light, Rejoicing In Its Strength, Sped From The Pyre Of Pine, And Urged Its Way, In Golden Glory, Like Some Strange New Sun.

For The Lips Of Zeus Do Not Know How To Lie, But Bring To Fulfilment Every Word.