It Is Tedious To Tell

Strife, Only A Slight Thing When She First Rears Her Head But Her Head Soon Hits The Sky As She Strides Across The Earth.

And His Good Wife Will Tear Her Cheeks In Grief, His Sons Are Orphans And He, Soaking The Soil Red With His Own Blood, He Rots Away Himself-more Birds Than Women Flocking Round His Body!

I Discovered A Meal Between Breakfast And Brunch.

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

Behold, On Wrong Swift Vengeance Waits; And Art Subdues The Strong.