Okean. Lo, I come to thee, Prometheus,
Reaching goal of distant journey,[[152]]
Guiding this my winged courser
By my will, without a bridle;
And thy sorrows move my pity.
Force, in part, I deem, of kindred
Leads me on, nor know I any,
Whom, apart from kin, I honour
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More than thee, in fuller measure.