I'll Get Out Of This

't Is Fortune Gives Us Birth, But Jove Alone Endues The Soul With Worth.

Know From The Bounteous Heaven All Riches Flow.

Sinks My Sad Soul With Sorrow To The Grave.

I Hate To Tell Again A Tale Once Fully Told.

On These Sands And In The Clefts Of The Rocks, In The Depths Of The Sea, In The Creaking Of The Pines, You'll Spy Secret Footprints And Catch Far-off Voices From The Homecoming Celebration. This Land Still Longs For Odysseus.