Over The Wine-dark Sea.

The Lot Of Man-to Suffer And Die.

Sinks My Sad Soul With Sorrow To The Grave.

Even When Someone Battles Hard, There Is An Equal Portion For One Who Lingers Behind, And In The Same Honor Are Held Both The Coward And The Brave Man; The Idle Man And He Who Has Done Much Meet Death Alike.

Now Deep In Ocean Sunk The Lamp Of Light, And Drew Behind The Cloudy Vale Of Night.

Life Is Not To Be Bought With Heaps Of Gold; Not All Apollo's Pythian Treasures Hold, Or Troy Once Held, In Peace And Pride Of Sway, Can Bribe The Poor Possession Of The Day.