Chorus
You who were born without the pains of childbirth, my Athena, I beseech you, brought to birth by the [455] Titan Prometheus from the crown of Zeus's head, o blessed Victory, come to the Pythian home, from the golden chambers of Olympus [460] flying to the ways where Phoebus' hearth, in the middle of the earth, fulfils oracles at the tripod celebrated with dances; [465] you and the daughter of Leto, two goddesses, two virgins, the holy sisters of Apollo. Maidens, beseech that the ancient race of Erechtheus [470] may find clear oracles of long-delayed birth of children.