Thrice-welcome herald, gleaming through the night!
[The beacon is seen shining.]
All hail thou cresset of the dark! fair gleam
Of day through midnight shed, all hail! bright father
Of joy and dance, in Argos, hail! all hail!
Hillo! hilloa!
I will go tell the wife of Agamemnon
To shake dull sleep away, and lift high-voiced[n3]
The jubilant shout well-omened, to salute
This welcome beacon, if, indeed, old Troy