Beseems that with blithe heart thou welcome one
Who hath done thee such service fair.
Splendour ye shed on Alexibius’ son,
O Graces of bright hair!
O happy thou, that after labour sore
Thou hast the praise of noblest song
To keep thy memory green! Mid those twoscore
Drivers, who mid the throng
Were hurled to earth, thou with a heart undaunted
Didst drive unscathed thy chariot on,
And now to Libya from Games glory-haunted
And thy sires’ home hast won.