By Turns The Nine Delight

There Is A Strength In The Even Of Very Sorry Men

Uncontrollable Laughter Arose Among The Blessed Gods.

Sing, O Muse, Of The Rage Of Achilles, Son Of Peleus, That Brought Countless Ills Upon The Achaeans.

The Leader, Mingling With The Vulgar Host, Is In The Common Mass Of Matter Lost.

Praise Me Not Too Much, Nor Blame Me, For Thou Speakest To The Greeks Who Know Me.