332–375.
Stroph. I.
Many the things that strange and wondrous are,
None stranger and more wonderful than man;
He dares to wander far,
With stormy blast across the hoary sea,
Where nought his eye can scan
But waves still surging round unceasingly;
And Earth, of all the Gods,
Mightiest, unwearied, indestructible,
He weareth year by year, and breaks her clods,
While the keen plough-share marks its furrows well,
Still turning to and fro;
And still he bids his steeds
Through daily taskwork go.
Antistroph. I.
And lo! with snare and net he captives makes
Of all the swift-winged tribes that flit through air;
Wild, untamed beasts he takes;
And many a sea-born dweller of the deep
He with devices rare
Snares in his mesh,—man, wonderful in skill;
And all brute things that dwell
In forest dark, or roam upon the hill,
He by his craft makes subject to his need,
And brings upon the neck of rough-maned steed
The yoke that makes him bend,
And binds the mountain bull
Resisting to the end.
Stroph. II.
And speech, and subtle thought,
Swift as the wind,
