Discourse, The Sweeter Banquet Of

It Is Entirely Seemly For A Young Man Killed In Battle To Lie Mangled By The Bronze Spear. In His Death All Things Appear Fair.

'yea And I Beheld Sisyphus In Strong Torment, Grasping A Monstrous Stone With Both His Hands. He Was Pressing Thereat With Hands And Feet, And Trying To Roll The Stone Upward Toward The Brow Of The Hill. But Oft As He Was About To Hurl It Over The Top, The Weight Would Drive Him Back, So Once Again To The Plain Rolled The Stone, The Shameless Thing. And He Once More Kept Heaving And Straining, And The Sweat The While Was Pouring Down His Limbs, And The Dust Rose Upwards From His Head.

Yet, Taught By Time, My Heart Has Learned To Glow For Other's Good, And Melt At Other's Woe.

Ruin, Eldest Daughter Of Zeus, She Blinds Us All, That Fatal Madness—she With Those Delicate Feet Of Hers, Never Touching The Earth, Gliding Over The Heads Of Men To Trap Us All. She Entangles One Man, Now Another.

Miserable Mortals Who Like Leaves At One Moment Flame With Life Eating The Produce Of The Land And At Another Moment Weakly Perish.