Till the Lord of Olympus, from earth upraising
The daughter of Opus, wafted his bride
To a lone spot meet for a God’s embracing
Mid Mainalus’ ridges, and lay by her side.
Thereafter to Lokrus the childless he brought
That maid, lest the fingers of eld should blot
Out his name, and his line be continued not
If heirless the king of the land should have died.
But the king’s bride bare till her time’s fulfilling
The seed of the Mightiest ’neath her zone;
And the hero rejoiced with a joy heart-thrilling
O’er the fair babe not of his own seed sown;
And he gave him his mother’s father’s name,
And a man pre-eminent he became
In goodlihead and in deeds of fame,
And his sire gave a city to rule for his own.