The third Labour of the hero
Chasing the hind of Kerneia
It had golden antlers like a stag
And strong hovers of brass
Ceryneian hind
You will never find
The Ceryneian hind
Will he now surrender
The creature could outrun an arrow
So you could only see it, because it’s glint
He was chasing the lightning fast doe
Through the lands for a year
He captured the hind while it slept
Rendering it lame with a trap net
So it wasn’t that hard
This time to hunt the deer
Ceryneian hind
You will never find
The Ceryneian hind
he did not surrender