The portals of that chamber whence all winds
Of love flow ever toward the fourfold Earth,
Watch by the entrance, sleepless, while we sleep;
And warn us ere the glimpses of the Dawn;
Lest Hêlios, the spy, may peer within
Our windows, and to Lemnos speed apace,
In envy clamoring to the hobbling smith,
Hêphæstos, of the wrong I do his bed.”
Thus Arês; and the Thracian boy, well pleased,
Swore to be faithful to his trust, and liege