For not by nature was this man dowered
With Orion’s giant height;
Mean was he to outward showing,
But with iron-heavy might
In the grapple his foe he overpowered.
So of old for Antaius’ o’erthrowing
To his dwelling in Libya’s corn-land came a man low-statured, a hero who bore
A spirit unflinching in conflict-strain,
A scion of Thebes whose wrestling-grip should for ever stay him from roofing o’er
With the skulls of strangers Poseidon’s fane,