Homer ("Smyrns of Chios")

Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;
Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.

Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;
Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.

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.

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 Heaven, that every virtue bears in mind,
E'en to the ashes of the just is kind.

And Heaven, that every virtue bears in mind,
E'en to the ashes of the just is kind.

It takes a great deal of history to produce a little literature.

It takes a great deal of history to produce a little literature.