Maxioms by Homer ("smyrns Of Chios")
If yet not lost to all the sense of shame.
If yet not lost to all the sense of shame.
The windy satisfaction of the tongue.
The windy satisfaction of the tongue.
One who journeying
Along a way he knows not, having crossed
A place of drear extent, before read more
One who journeying
Along a way he knows not, having crossed
A place of drear extent, before him sees
A river rushing swiftly toward the deep,
And all its tossing current white with foam,
And stops and turns, and measures back his way.
I live an idle burden to the ground.
I live an idle burden to the ground.
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
