Just Once I'd Like Someone To Call

The Gods, Likening Themselves To All Kinds Of Strangers, Go In Various Disguises From City To City, Observing The Wrongdoing And The Righteousness Of Men.

Strife, Only A Slight Thing When She First Rears Her Head But Her Head Soon Hits The Sky As She Strides Across The Earth.

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms

The Outcome Of The War Is In Our Hands; The Outcome Of Words Is In The Council.

For Love Deceives The Best Of Woman Kind.