When blood of oxen flows on holidays,
Shall stand beside thine altar? O give ear,
And of this house so little now, and fallen
So low, rebuild the fortunes!
Chorus.
Hush, my children!
If ye would save your father’s house, speak softly,
Lest some one hear, and, with swift babblement,
Inform their ears who rule; whom may I see
Flayed on a fire, with streaming pitch well fed!