When Bellerophon fain would have winged his flight to the mansions on high,
And have entered the glorious conclave of Gods with Zeus throned there.
Bitter the end is of pleasure attained unlawfully.
But to us, O Loxias, thou with thy glory of golden hair
Ever blooming in youth, do thou with a gift of thy grace draw nigh,
From Pytho’s contests on us bestowing
A garland of bright flowers lovely-blowing.