powers of fiery lightning, Zeus our father, slay him beneath your thunder-bolt.

ChorusLycean Lord, would that the shafts from your bent bow’s string of woven gold mightgo forth in their might, our champions in the face of the foe, and the flashing fires of Artemis too, with which she darts through the Lycian hills. I call him whose locks are bound with gold,who is named with the name of this land, ruddy Bacchus to whom Bacchants cry, to draw near with the blaze of his shining torch,