To him and Zeus did royal-souled Alkmena
In love united, in one travail bear
The might of twin sons: conquerors they were
Ever, these twain, in battle’s grim arena.
A dullard is the man who never raiseth
His voice to sing the deeds of Heracles,
And Dirke’s streams remembereth not nor praiseth
Whose Fountain-maid reared him and Iphikles.
Unto these now will I uplift a chanting
Of triumph-song for that their gracious granting
Of vows’ fulfilment. On me may your light,
O Graces ringing-voiced, shine ever bright!
Aegina and Nisus’ Hill have heard me singing
Three times ere this, Kyrene’s praise outringing.