Homer ("Smyrns of Chios")

To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd,
In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.

To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd,
In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.

Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.

Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.

A happier lot were mine,
If I must lose thee, to go down to earth,
For I read more

A happier lot were mine,
If I must lose thee, to go down to earth,
For I shall have no hope when thou art gone,--
Nothing but sorrow. Father have I none,
And no dear mother.

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.

He is a fool
Who only sees the mischiefs that are past.

He is a fool
Who only sees the mischiefs that are past.