They Sent Forth Men To Battle, But

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

For The Poison Of Hatred Seated Near The Heart Doubles The Burden For The One Who Suffers The Disease; He Is Burdened With His Own Sorrow, And Groans On Seeing Another's Happiness.

But When The Dust Has Drunk The Blood Of Men, No Resurrection Comes For One Who's Dead.

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.

Chorus: Zeus, Who Guided Men To Think Who Laid It Down That Wisdom Comes Alone Through Suffering. Still There Drips In Sleep Against The Heart Grief Of Memory; Against Our Pleasure We Are Temperate.