Homer ("Smyrns of Chios")

No living man can send me to the shades
Before my time; no man of woman born,
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No living man can send me to the shades
Before my time; no man of woman born,
Coward or brave, can shun his destiny.

Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.

Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.

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

Gloomy as night he stands.

Gloomy as night he stands.

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.