Animoca Brands Co-Founder on AI, NFTs and Blockchain

Comprehensive up-to-date news coverage, aggregated from sources all over the world by Google News.

youtube.com

Perhaps great Hector then had found his fate, But Jove and destiny prolong’d his date. Safe from the darts, the care of heaven he stood, Amidst alarms, and death, and dust, and blood.

“The gauntlet-fight thus ended, from the shore His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore: His mouth and nostrils pour’d a purple flood, And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood.”

—A field deep furrowed. “Here was a corn field; reapers in a row, Each with a sharp-tooth’d sickle in his hand, Work’d busily, and, as the harvest fell, Others were ready still to bind the sheaves: Yoked to a wain that bore the corn away The steers were moving; sturdy bullocks here The plough were drawing, and the furrow’d glebe Was black behind them, while with goading wand The active youths impell’d them. Here a feast Was graved: to the shrill pipe and ringing lyre A band of blooming virgins led the dance. As if endued with life.” —Dyce’s Calaber.