With what a winged course the oracles Haste their completion! With the lightning's speed Jove on my son hath hurled his threaten'd vengeance: Yet I implored the gods that it might fall In time's late process: but when rashness drives Impetuous on, the scourge of Heaven upraised Lashes the Fury forward; hence these ills Pour headlong on my friends. Not weighing this, My son, with all the fiery pride of youth, Hath quickened their arrival, while he hoped To bind the sacred Hellespont, to hold The raging Bosphorus, like a slave, in chains, And dared the advent'rous passage, bridging firm With links of solid iron his wondrous way, To lead his numerous host; and swell'd with thoughts Presumptuous, deem'd, vain mortal! that his power Should rise above the gods, and Neptune's might. And was riot this the phrensy of the soul? But much I fear lest all my treasured wealth Fall to some daring hand an easy prey. [...]

(Δα.) φεῦ͵ ταχεῖά γ΄ ἦλθε χρησμῶν πρᾶξις͵ ἐς δὲ παῖδ΄ ἐμὸν Ζεὺς ἀπέσκηψεν τελευτὴν θεσφάτων· ἐγὼ δέ που διὰ μακροῦ χρόνου τάδ΄ ηὔχουν ἐκτελευτήσειν θεούς· ἀλλ΄͵ ὅταν σπεύδῃ τις αὐτός͵ χὠ θεὸς συνάπτεται. νῦν κακῶν ἔοικε πηγὴ πᾶσιν ηὑρῆσθαι φίλοις. παῖς δ΄ ἐμὸς τάδ΄ οὐ κατειδὼς ἤνυσεν νέῳ θράσει· ὅστις Ἑλλήσποντον ἱρὸν δοῦλον ὣς δεσμώμασιν ἤλπισε σχήσειν ῥέοντα͵ Βόσπορον ῥόον θεοῦ· καὶ πόρον μετερρύθμιζε͵ καὶ πέδαις σφυρηλάτοις περιβαλὼν πολλὴν κέλευθον ἤνυσεν πολλῷ στρατῷ. θνητὸς ὢν θεῶν τε πάντων ᾤετ΄͵ οὐκ εὐβουλίᾳ͵ καὶ Ποσειδῶνος κρατήσειν· πῶς τάδ΄ οὐ νόσος φρενῶν εἶχε παῖδ΄ ἐμόν; δέδοικα μὴ πολὺς πλούτου πόνος οὑμὸς ἀνθρώποις γένηται τοῦ φθάσαντος ἁρπαγή. [...]