With fire that shall darken thy fire in the sky,

Body to body and eye against eye

In a war against kind,

Till the bloom of her fields and her high hills whiten

110

With the foam of his waves more high.

For the sea-marks set to divide of old

The kingdoms to Ocean and Earth assigned,

The hoar sea-fields from the cornfields' gold,

His wine-bright waves from her vineyards' fold,

Frail forces we find

To bridle the spirit of Gods or bind

Till the heat of their hearts wax cold.

But the peace that was stablished between them to stand

Is rent now in twain by the strength of his hand

120

Who stirs up the storm of his sons overbold

To pluck from fight what he lost of right,

By council and judgment of Gods that spake

And gave great Pallas the strife's fair stake,

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