About his back the War-god spread;
So writhed to hard-fought victory
The serpent[1] struggling to be free.

High Zeus beheld their stream that proudly rolled [_Half-Chorus_
Idly caparisoned[2] with clanking gold:
Zeus hates the boastful tongue:
He with hurled fire down flung
One who in haste had mounted high,
And that same hour from topmost tower
Upraised the exulting cry.

Swung rudely to the hard repellent earth II 1
Amidst his furious mirth
He fell, who then with flaring brand
Held in his fiery hand
Came breathing madness at the gate
In eager blasts of hate.
And doubtful swayed the varying fight
Through the turmoil of the night,
As turning now on these and now on those
Ares hurtled 'midst our foes,
Self-harnessed helper[3] on our right.

Seven matched with seven, at each gate one, [_Half-Chorus_
Their captains, when the day was done,
Left for our Zeus who turned the scale,
The brazen tribute in full tale:--
All save the horror-burdened pair,
Dire children of despair,