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The gods I ask deliverance from these labours,

Watch of a year's length whereby, slumbering through it

On the Atreidai's roofs on elbow,—dog-like—

I know of nightly star-groups the assemblage,

And those that bring to men winter and summer,

Bright dynasts, as they pride them in the æther

—Stars, when they wither, and the uprisings of them.

And now on ward I wait the torch's token,

The glow of fire, shall bring from Troia message

And word of capture: so prevails audacious

The man's-way-planning hoping heart of woman.

But when I, driven from night-rest, dew-drenched, hold to