Sweet unto diverse men is the meed that from labour they reap,
To the shepherd, the ploughman, the fowler, to him who is fed from the sea.
Yet of these each strives but the wolf of hunger at bay to keep;
But who wins in the Games renown, or in battle victory,
When all men extol his achievement, receiveth the highest gain,
For praises as flowers on his head do strangers and citizens rain.