Maiden whose might no labour can out-tire!
If ever subtle-souled Odysseus here
Within these halls consumed upon the fire
“Fat thigh-pieces of ox or sheep to thee,
Remember it this day for good to me,
And save my son, and from us thrust away
The suitors in their evil surquedry.”
Calling aloud so spake she, and her call
The goddess heard.[[7]]
