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Chorus of MEN
Ah, now, there's but a little space
To reach the place!
A deadly climb it is, a tricky road
With all this bumping load:
A pack-ass soon would tire....
How these logs bruise my shoulders! further still
Jog up the hill,
And puff the fire inside,
Or just as we reach the top we'll find it's died.
Ough, phew!
I choke with the smoke.

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  • Cross-references to this page (1):
    • Basil L. Gildersleeve, Syntax of Classical Greek, Concord
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