Black Smoke, The Flickering Sister Of Fire.

The Seed Of Mortals Broods O'er Passing Things, And Hath Nought Surer Than The Smoke-cloud's Shadow.

Know Not To Revere Human Things Too Much.

Arrogance Is Truly The Child Of Impiety, But From Health Of Soul Comes Happiness, Dear To All, Much Prayed For.

For Hades Is Mighty In Calling Men To Account Below The Earth, And With A Mind That Records In Tablets He Surveys All Things.

The Holy Heaven Yearns To Wound The Earth, And Yearning Layeth Hold On The Earth To Join In Wedlock; The Rain, Fallen From The Amorous Heaven, Impregnates The Earth, And It Bringeth Forth For Mankind The Food Of Flocks And Herds And Demeter's Gifts; And From That Moist Marriage-rite The Woods Put On Their Bloom.