Queen Niobe of Thebes was blesst beyond most mortal men,

Her noble birth, her riches, grand beyond mere mortals’ ken.

Proud mother she of seven girls and likewise seven boys.

No other life, the people said, could hold so many joys.

It came to pass one festive day that Niobe proclaimed,

"Good folk, if you Leto adore, then you should be ashamed

If you don’t also worship me, for children I’ve fourteen

While Leto’s children number two." Thus spoke the haughty queen.

Leto’s daughter Artemis, Apollo, Leto’s son,

Sought out the children of the queen, and shot them one by one.

Amphion having stabbed himself, she, smitten to the bone,

Now childless widow cried so much, she turned herself to stone.

Why, goddess, is thy wrath so great? What sting hath human rant?