Iliad 1.33-42 -- In Hexameters!

So spake he; the old man was afraid, was convinced by his story
And he went silently by the shores of the much vaunting ocean
And then when he’d gone very far, the advanced senior, praying:
“My lord Apollo, you whom begot he of flowing hairs, Leto,
Hearken to me, silver bowed one, who striding Chryse
Rule by your might in Cilla’s temple, in that of Tenedos;
Smintheus! If for you ever I’ve roofed up a right holy dwelling,
Or ever if sometimes for you sacrificed fats on the limb-made
Joints taken from proud bulls and the craft of goats, hear my prayer:
Let the Danaans compensate for my tears with your strong shafts."