Homer ("Smyrns of Chios")

Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in
the bosom of a man like smoke.

Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in
the bosom of a man like smoke.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell.

Just are the ways of heaven; from Heaven proceed
The woes of man: Heaven doom'd the Greeks to bleed.

Just are the ways of heaven; from Heaven proceed
The woes of man: Heaven doom'd the Greeks to bleed.

In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.

In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.

And better skilled in dark events to come.

And better skilled in dark events to come.