To holy plain all forms of life sustaining,
Fields that are fed from snows,[[244]]
Which Typhon's monstrous strength has traversed,[[245]]
And unto Neilos' streams,
By sickly taint untouched,[[246]]
Still maddened with her toil of ignominy,
By torturing stings driven on, great Hera's frenzied slave.
Antistrophe III
And those who then the lands inhabited,
Quivered with pallid fear,