Know From The Bounteous Heaven

I Should Rather Labor As Another's Serf, In The Home Of A Man Without Fortune, One Whose Livelihood Was Meager, Than Rule Over All The Departed Dead.

So, The Gods Don't Hand Out All Their Gifts At Once, Not Build And Brains And Flowing Speech To All. One Man May Fail To Impress Us With His Looks But A God Can Crown His Words With Beauty, Charm, And Men Look On With Delight When He Speaks Out. Never Faltering, Filled With Winning Self-control, He Shines Forth At Assembly Grounds And People Gaze At Him Like A God When He Walks Through The Streets. Another Man May Look Like A Deathless One On High But There's Not A Bit Of Grace To Crown His Words. Just Like You, My Fine, Handsome Friend.

Yea, And If Some God Shall Wreck Me In The Wine-dark Deep, Even So I Will Endure… For Already Have I Suffered Full Much, And Much Have I Toiled In Perils Of Waves And War. Let This Be Added To The Tale Of Those.

I Would Rather Be A Serf In A Poor Man's House And Be Above Ground Than Reign Among The Dead.

There Is A Strength In The Even Of Very Sorry Men