Antistroph. I.
And so he came and stood,
In fierce, hot hate,
With spears that slaughter craved,
Round each tall gate.
He went, his jaws unfilled
With blood of ours,
Ere pine-fed blaze had seized
Our crown of towers.
So great the battle-din
Around his rear,—
The crash, that Ares loves,
Of shield and spear:
Hard conflict that and stiff
For well-matched foe,
The dragon fierce who fought
And laid him low.
For Zeus the lofty speech of boastful pride
Hateth exceedingly;
And sees them as they flow in torrent wide,
Proud of gold panoply,—
With fire swift-flung he hurls from rampart high
One who shouts "Victory!"
Stroph. II.
So smitten down he fell
Straight to the echoing earth,
He who, with torch of fire,
And mad with frenzied mirth,
Swooped on our hearth and home
