"Pallas Athene, glorious goddess, now will I sing.
Sea-grey eyes, ready mind, heart to remember a thing,
Worshipful maid, Ward of the City, valiant in war;
Tritogeneia, daughter of Zeus the Counsellor,
Born from his sacred head, in battle-array ready dight,
Golden, all glistering. Fear took hold of them all at the sight–
Them, the Immortals; but she, before Zeus of the Ægis-shield,
Burst and flashed and leaped in birth from the deathless head,
Shaking a sharp-edged spear. And high Olympus reeled
At the wrath in the sea-grey eyes, and Earth on every side
Rang with a terrible cry, and the deep was disquieted
With the tumult of purple waves and outpouring of the tide.
Suddenly, and in heaven, Hyperion's bright son stayed
His galloping steeds for a space–long, long it seemed, till the maid
Took from immortal shoulders the godlike armour they had,
Pallas, our Lady of Athens. And the counsellor Zeus was glad.
Then hail thou thus, to whom, with the Father, the shield belongs;
But I will make mention of thee yet again in my holy songs."