And Woe Succeeds Woe.

All Strangers And Beggars Are From Zeus, And A Gift, Though Small, Is Precious.

Sweet Sleep Fell Upon His Eyelids, Unwakeful, Most Pleasant, The Nearest Like Death.

Oh, My Tattered Rags Are Caught On Your Coffee Table.

A Man's Life Breath Cannot Come Back Again-- No Raiders In Force, No Trading Brings It Back, Once It Slips Through A Man's Clenched Teeth.

The Wine Urges Me On, The Bewitching Wine, Which Sets Even A Wise Man To Singing And To Laughing Gently And Rouses Him Up To Dance And Brings Forth Words Which Were Better Unspoken.