The hero said; and, with the torture stung, + 

Furious o’er Oete’s lofty hills he sprung. + 

Stuck with the shaft, thus scours the tiger round, + 

And seeks the flying author of his wound. + 

Now might you see him trembling, now he vents + 

His anguish’d soul in groans, and loud laments; + 

He strives to tear the clinging vest in vain, + 

And with uprooted forests strows the plain; + 

Now kindling into rage, his hands he rears, + 

And to his kindred gods directs his prayers. + 

When Lychas, lo, he spies; who trembling flew, + 

And in a hollow rock conceal’d from view, + 

Had shunn’d his wrath. Now grief renew’d his pain, + 

His madness chafed, and thus he raves again: + 

“Lychas, to thee alone my fate I owe, + 

Who bore the gift, the cause of all my wo.” + 

The youth all pale with shiv’ring fear was stung, + 

And vain excuses falter’d on his tongue. + 

Alcides snatch’d him, as with suppliant face + 

He strove to clasp his knees, and beg for grace: + 

He toss’d him o’er his head with airy course, + 

And hurl’d with more than with an engine’s force: + 

Far o’er the Euboean main aloof he flies, + 

And hardens by degrees amid the skies. + 

So show’ry drops, when chilly tempests blow, + 

Thicken at first, then whiten into snow, + 

In balls congeal’d the rolling fleeces bound, + 

In solid hail result upon the ground. + 

Thus, whirl’d with nervous force through distant air, + 

The purple tide forsook his veins with fear; + 

All moisture left his limbs. Transform’d to stone, + 

In ancient days the craggy flint was known: + 

Still in the Euboean waves his front he rears, + 

Still the small rock in human form appears, + 

And still the name of hapless Lychas bears. + 