Maxioms by Homer ("smyrns Of Chios")
Gloomy as night he stands.
Gloomy as night he stands.
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent,
And what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent,
And what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
Rare gift! but oh, what gift to fools avails!
Rare gift! but oh, what gift to fools avails!
Fly, dotard, fly!
With thy wise dreams and fables of the sky.
Fly, dotard, fly!
With thy wise dreams and fables of the sky.
Praise me not too much,
Nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks
Who know me.
Praise me not too much,
Nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks
Who know me.
