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O Zeus, All-ruler, and Night the Aid,

Gainer of glories, and hast thou thrown

Over the towers of Ilion

Thy net close-laid,

That none so nimble and none so tall

Shall escape withal

The.snare of the slaver that claspeth all?

And Zeus the Watcher of Friend and Friend

I also praise, who hath wrought this end.

Long since on Paris his shaft he drew,

And hath aimèd true,

Not too soon falling nor yet too far,

The fire of the avenging star.

The stroke of Zeus hath found them! Clear this day

The tale, and plain to trace.

He judged, and Troy hath fallen.—And have men said

That God not deigns to mark man's hardihead,

Trampling to earth the grace

Of holy and delicate things?—Sin lies that way.

For visibly Pride doth breed its own return

On prideful men, who, when their houses swell

With happy wealth, breathe ever wrath and blood.

Yet not too fierce let the due vengeance burn;