“The gods! long since they hold us in contempt,Scornful of gifts thus offered by the lost!Why should we fawn and flinch away from doom?”

“Wisdom comes through suffering.Trouble, with its memories of pain,Drips in our hearts as we try to sleep,So men against their willLearn to practice moderation.Favours come to us from gods.”

“But there is a cure in the house,and not outside it, no,not from others but from them,their bloody strife. We sing to you,dark gods beneath the earth.”

“I gave them hope, and so turned away their eyes from death”

“We spoil ourselves with scruples long as things go well.”

“Nothing forces us to knowWhat we do not want to knowExcept pain”

“Oh, the torment bred in the race, the grinding scream of deathand the stroke that hits the vein,the hemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,the curse no man can bear.But there is a cure in the house, and not outside it, no,not from others but from them,their bloody strife. We sing to you,dark gods beneath the earth.Now hear, you blissful powers underground --answer the call, send help.Bless the children, give them triumph now.”