It Is Always The Latest Song That

Men Are So Quick To Blame The Gods: They Say That We Devise Their Misery. But They Themselves- In Their Depravity- Design Grief Greater Than The Griefs That Fate Assigns.

By Their Own Follies They Perished, The Fools.

Aries In His Many Fits Knows No Favorites.

't Is Fortune Gives Us Birth, But Jove Alone Endues The Soul With Worth.

Now From The Smooth Deep Ocean-stream The Sun Began To Climb The Heavens, And With New Rays Smote The Surrounding Fields.