O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.
Who holds a power but newly gained is ever stern of mood.
For know that no one is free, except Zeus.
I gave them hope, and so turned away their eyes from death
For the lips of Zeus do not know how to lie, but bring to fulfilment every word.
If a man suffers ill, let it be without shame; for this is the only profit when we are dead. You will never say a good word about deeds that are evil and disgraceful.