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.

And every eye
Gaz'd as before some brother of the sky.

And every eye
Gaz'd as before some brother of the sky.

The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she read more

The fiction pleased; our generous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she plyed, but, studious of delay,
Each following night reversed the toils of day.

Prophet of evil! never hadst thou yet
A cheerful word for me. To mark the signs
Of read more

Prophet of evil! never hadst thou yet
A cheerful word for me. To mark the signs
Of coming mischief is thy great delight,
Good dost thou ne'er foretell nor bring to pass.

Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.

Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.