Maxioms by Homer ("smyrns Of Chios")
Our fruitless labours mourn,
And only rich in barren fame return.
Our fruitless labours mourn,
And only rich in barren fame return.
I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.
I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.
Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair.
Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair.
It never was our guise
To slight the poor, or aught humane despise.
It never was our guise
To slight the poor, or aught humane despise.
And for our country 'tis a bliss to die.
And for our country 'tis a bliss to die.
