Devouring a hare-creature, great with young, Baulked of more racings they, as she from whom they sprung! Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail! But may the good prevail!
 The prudent army-prophet seeing two The Atreidai, two their tempers, knew Those feasting on the hare The armament-conductors were; And thus he spoke, explaining signs in view. In time, this outset takes the town of Priamos: But all before its towers, — the people’s wealth that was, Of flocks and herds, — as sure, shall booty-sharing thence Drain to the dregs away, by battle violence. Only, have care lest grudge of any god disturb With cloud the unsullied shine of that great force, the curb Of Troia , struck with damp Beforehand in the camp! For envyingly is The virgin Artemis Toward — her father’s flying hounds — this House — The sacrificers of the piteous And cowering beast, Brood and all, ere the birth: she hates the eagles’ feast. Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail! But may the good prevail!
 Thus ready is the beauteous one with help To those small dewdrop-things fierce lions whelp, And udder-loving litter of each brute That roams the mead; and therefore makes she suit, The fair one, for fulfilment to the end