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266 How mighty towns he overthrew,

Great Troy and great Œchalia too;

What countless tasks, assigned

By king Eurystheus, he fulfilled,

When haughty Juno, iron-willed,

With Destiny combined.

'Thy conquering arm the cloud-born twain,

Hylæus, Pholus, both has slain;

Thou lay'st the Cretan monster low,

And that fell beast, that met his foe

In Nemea's mountain glen.

The Stygian lake beheld and feared,

And Orcus' warder, blood-besmeared,

Growling o'er gory bones half-cleared

Down in his gloomy den.

No grisly shape thy soul could fright,

Nor e'en Typhoeus, as for fight

In arms he towered erect;

No lack was thine of counsel shrewd,

When like a legion round thee stood

The Hydra hundred-necked.

All hail, great Jove's authentic race,

Who e'en to heaven canst lend a grace!

Vouchsafe thy presence here to-day

To us and to the rites we pay.'

So mingle they their praise and prayer,

And add, to crown his fame,

Grim Cacus in his robber-lair

Outbreathing smoke and flame.

The sacred forest, thrilled with sound,

Re-echoes and the hills rebound.

And now the train, their worship o'er,

Back to the city wend once more.