Whenas in days long done to delve through marrow of mountains
Darèd, falsing his sire, Amphtryóniades;
What time sure of his shafts he smote Stymphalian monsters
Slaying their host at the hest dealt by a lord of less worth,
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So might the gateway of Heaven be trodden by more of the godheads,
Nor might Hébé abide longer to maidenhood doomed.
Yet was the depth of thy love far deeper than deepest of marish
Which the hard mistress's yoke taught him so tamely to bear;
Never was head so dear to a grandsire wasted by life-tide