Servants, When Their Lords No Longer Sway,

[but] Age, The Common Enemy Of Mankind, Has Laid His Hand Upon You; Would That It Had Fallen Upon Some Other, And That You Were Still Young.

Dreams Are Sent By God.

But Listen To Me First And Swear An Oath To Use All Your Eloquence And Strength To Look After Me And Protect Me.

Which Would You Rather Be, A Conqueror In The Olympic Games, Or The Crier That Proclaims Who Are Conquerors?

All Men Owe Honor To The Poets - Honor And Awe; For They Are Dearest To The Muse Who Puts Upon Their Lips The Ways Of Life.