Ares Ever Loves To Pluck All The

Everyone's Quick To Blame The Alien.

Do Not Kick Against The Pricks.

Ah, Lives Of Men! When Prosperous They Glitter - Like A Fair Picture; When Misfortune Comes - A Wet Sponge At One Blow Has Blurred The Painting.

The Gods At Will Can Shape A Gladder Strain, And From The Lamentations At The Graveside, A Song Of Triumph May Arise.

My Friends, Whoever Has Had Experience Of Evils Knows How Whenever A Flood Of Ills Comes Upon Mortals, A Man Fears Everything; But Whenever A Divine Force Cheers On Our Voyage, Then We Believe That The Same Fate Will Always Blow Fair.