Where his home ’twixt thy temples doth stand, which face him
At his goings forth, as with blessing laden:
Like a chariot’s twin yokes, so they embrace him.
And thee, O Heracles ever-blest,
It beseemeth to win to grant his request
Hera’s Lord and the grey-eyed Maiden.
For oft upon mortals canst thou bestow
Help in the hour of the bitter woe
Of hopelessly tangled perplexities.
Oh wouldst thou but link with the life of these
All steadfast strength, through youth’s glad day
Weaving its web of happiness still
Till an easeful eld thy task fulfil!
May their children’s children possess for aye