But bethink thee of Zeus the while thou raisest
For Nemean triumph the far-ringing song
Soft-swelling. ’Tis meet that the while thou praisest
Him who sitteth enthroned the Immortals among,
Such praise be chanted in this your land
With reverent voice by the chorus-band,
For that here of his seed begotten, ’tis sung,
Of an Isle-nymph mother hath Aiakus sprung