Dreadful is the mysterious power of fate; there is no deliverance from it by wealth or by war, by walled city or dark, seabeaten ships.

Now let the weeping cease; Let no one mourn again. These things are in the hands of God.

Sleep's the only medicine that gives ease.

What you can't enforce, do not command.

The tyrant is a child of Pride Who drinks from his sickening cup Recklessness and vanity, Until from his high crest headlong He plummets to the dust of hope.

Sleep, ignorant of pain, sleep, ignorant of grief, may you come to us blowing softly, kindly, kindly come king.

Not to be born surpasses thought and speech. The second best is to have seen the light and then go back quickly whence we came