I wish you joy. To spend life's fleeting days mid joy that never meets an evil hour is to be blessed beyond compare. - Euripides

Rhesus. Who next to him hath honour in their host?
Hector. Next, to my seeming, Ajax hath the most,
Or Diomede. — But Odysseus is a tough
And subtle fox, and brave; aye, brave enough.
No man of them hath harmed us more than he.
He climbed here to Athena's sanctuary
One night, and stole her image clean away
To the Argive ships. Yes, and another day,
Guised as a wandering priest, in rags, he came
And walked straight through the Gates, made loud acclaim
Of curses on the Greek, spied out alone
All that he sought in Ilion, and was gone — Gone, and the watch and helpers of the Gate
Dead! And in every ambush they have set
By the old Altar, close to Troy, we know
He sits — a murderous reptile of a foe!

And so, by the arts of Ulysses, [5] they drew me from my mother under pretense of being wedded to Achilles.

He is life's liberating force.
He is release of limbs and communion through dance.
He is laughter, and music in flutes.
He is repose from all cares — he is sleep!
When his blood bursts from the grape
and flows across tables laid in his honor
to fuse with our blood,
he gently, gradually, wraps us in shadows
of ivy-cool sleep.