Self-will In The Man Who Does Not

Nor Does Night Conceal Men's Deeds Of Ill, But Whatsoe'er Thou Dost, Think That Some God Beholds It.

For This Our Task Hath Fate Spun Without Fail To Last For Ever Sure, That We On Man Weighed Down With Deeds Of Hate Should Follow Till The Earth His Life Immure. Nor When He Dies Can He Boast Of Being Truly Free.

In The Lack Of Judgment Great Harm Arises, But One Vote Cast Can Set Right A House.

The Tongue Of Slander Is Too Prompt With Wanton Malice To Wound The Stranger.

For By The Will Of The Gods Fate Hath Held Sway Since Ancient Days.