Bacchylides Poems: The Cloud of Fate

Peaceful wealth, or painful toil,
Chance of war, or civil broil,
'Tis not for man's feeble race
These to shun, or those embrace.
But that all-disposing Fate
Which presides o'er mortal state,
Where it listeth, casts its shroud
Of impenetrable cloud.

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Wednesday, April 20, 2011 - 00:07

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Bacchylides

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