Builder of quarrels, with the House cognate —Having in awe no husband: for remainsA frightful, backward-darting in the path,Wily house-keeping chronicler of wrath,That has to punish that old children’s fate!Such things did Kalchas, — with abundant gainsAs well, — vociferate,Predictions from the birds, in journeying,Above the abode of either king.With these, symphonious, sing —Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail!But may the good prevail! Zeus, whosoe’er he be, — if that expressAught dear to him on whom I call —So do I him address.I cannot liken out, by allAdmeasurement of powers,Any but Zeus for refuge at such hours,If veritably needs I mustFrom off my soul its vague care-burthen thrust.