And Rest At Last Where Souls Unbodied

These Nights Are Endless, And A Man Can Sleep Through Them, Or He Can Enjoy Listening To Stories, And You Have No Need To Go To Bed Before It Is Time. Too Much Sleep Is Only A Bore. And Of The Others, Any One Whose Heart And Spirit Urge Him Can Go Outside And Sleep, And Then, When The Dawn Shows, Breakfast First, Then Go Out To Tend The Swine Of Our Master. But We Two, Sitting Here In The Shelter, Eating And Drinking, Shall Entertain Each Other Remembering And Retelling Our Sad Sorrows. For Afterwards A Man Who Has Suffered Much And Wandered Much Has Pleasure Out Of His Sorrows.

It Is Equally Bad When One Speeds On The Guest Unwilling To Go, And When He Holds Back One Who Is Hastening. Rather One Should Befriend The Guest Who Is There, But Speed Him When He Wishes.

Ruin, Eldest Daughter Of Zeus, She Blinds Us All, That Fatal Madness—she With Those Delicate Feet Of Hers, Never Touching The Earth, Gliding Over The Heads Of Men To Trap Us All. She Entangles One Man, Now Another.

Tell Me, O Muse, Of That Ingenious Hero Who Travelled Far And Wide After He Had Sacked The Famous Town Of Troy.

But You Can't Stop At One, You Wanna Drink Another Woman!