The glance of the evil eye upon Talos, his vision to blast. {1670}
And her teeth gnashed fury accursèd upon him, the arms of her waved
Beckonings of doom, as of one that in frenzy of hatred raved.
Zeus Father, awe as a wind on my spirit bloweth chill,
Seeing how by disease not alone, nor by wounds, the doom of ill
Meeteth us, yea, how one from afar shall work our bane!
Even as he, though brazen, yielded yet to be slain
By the might of Medea the sorceress. Then, as he heaved on high
The massy rocks to withstand them from coming the haven anigh,
On a spur of the crag did he graze his heel, and the ichor-flood