Of time’s most ancient gulfs, and see the fight
The young gods fought with the hoar gods of eld.
Zeus, hurled aback full oft, comes climbing on
Toward the gold seat o’ the Father, in his hand
The sickle of horror, and behind him creeps
A Titan to the attack, sore-bowed with fetters.
Why is he not perceived of Kronos? Lo
He’s manacled and maimed and downward hurled!
Wears he the ring? Gyges, he wore the ring
And Gaia’s self had handed him the ring!