'twas But My Tongue, 'twas

The Gods Have Sent Medicines For The Venom Of Serpents, But There Is No Medicine For A Bad Woman. She Is More Noxious Than The Viper, Or Than Fire Itself.

Greatness Brings No Profit To People. God Indeed, When In Anger, Brings Greater Ruin To Great Mens Houses.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

All Men Know Their Children Mean More Than Life. If Childless People Sneer- Well, They've Less Sorrow. But What Lonesome Luck!

It Is Said That Gifts Persuade Even The Gods.