bodily shape, no, nor at Typhœus himself, towering high,
weapons in hand; thy reason failed thee not when Lerna’s
serpent stood round thee with all her throng of heads.
Hail to thee, authentic offspring of Jove, fresh ornament
of the sky! come to us, come to these thine own rites
with favouring smile and auspicious gait.” Such things
their songs commemorate; and they crown all with Cacus’ 5
cave and the fiend himself, the fire panting from his lungs.
The entire grove echoes with their voices, and the hills
rebound.