Work-Book

 1   T-I| weeping now, though, once, of joy. ~I’ve more orders for you
 2  T-IV|       but I miss the communal joy, I’m driven far away,~and
 3   T-V|    was brief.~Still, so cruel joy might not grip your soul
 4   T-V|      songs~are the product of joy, and need a mind at peace.~
 5  ExII|   known this brief and unreal joy,~remembering the happiness,
 6   ExI|    Caesar doesn’t wish me any joy,~he should still wish this
 7   ExI|    should still wish this one joy on us all.~The gods, so
 8   ExI|   mature honours,~feeling the joy that he has felt at his
 9   ExI|     deny the supreme place~of joy, to those before whom all
10 ExIII|      has filled everyone with joy.~While the house, the children,
11 ExIII|     your words,~and a greater joy might have filled my heart,
12 ExIII|     but you~used to find more joy in those when you were the
13 ExIII|     The effort of writing’s a joy in itself, and less an effort,~
14  ExIV|      speak of, in writing,~no joy in weaving words into metre,~
15  ExIV|     miserable~that there’s no joy to lessen the pain a little.~
16  ExIV|    There’s another reason for joy, not inferior to the first,~
17  ExIV|  stuff of sorrow.~Where’s the joy in stabbing your steel into
18  IBIS|      gods grant you have such joy in your wife’s~loyalty as
19   Ind|   Dionysus brought terror and joy. The Maenads’ secret female