In his autumn before the winter comes mans last mad surge of youth.
And if to some my tale seems foolishness I am content that such could count me fool.
Comply, and fear not, for my load of woe Is incommunicable to all but me.
How terrible-- to see the truth when the truth is only pain to him who sees!
You'll never find a man on Earth, if a god leads him on, who can escape his fate.
For Time calls only once, and that determines all.