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 twoThe Atreidai, two their tempers, knewThose feasting on the hareThe 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 thenceDrain to the dregs away, by battle violence.Only, have care lest grudge of any god disturbWith cloud the unsullied shine of that great force, the curbOf Troia, struck with dampBeforehand in the camp!For envyingly isThe virgin ArtemisToward — her father’s flying hounds — this House —The sacrificers of the piteousAnd 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 helpTo those small dewdrop-things fierce lions whelp,And udder-loving litter of each bruteThat roams the mead; and therefore makes she suit,The fair one, for fulfilment to the end