I'm In A Place Where

Death Submits To No One.

Noble And Manly Music Invigorates The Spirit, Strengthens The Wavering Man, And Incites Him To Great And Worthy Deeds.

Long Exercised In Woes.

If Any Man Obeys The Gods, They Listen To Him Also.

Rather I'd Choose Laboriously To Bear A Weight Of Woes, And Breathe The Vital Air, A Slave To Some Poor Hind That Toils For Bread, Than Reign The Sceptred Monarch Of The Dead.