This day, O Muse, in the presence of a friend it behoves thee to stand,
Even the King of Kyrene, the goodly battle-steed’s land,
That so, when Arkesilas leadeth the revel-dance sweeping along,
Thou at his side mayst be swelling the breeze of acclaiming song
Which is due unto Leto’s children, to Pytho the temple due,
Where of old, when Apollo’s presence was a glory that shone therethrough,
The priestess enthroned by the golden eagles of Zeus revealed
That Battus should found an empire in Libya’s fruitful field,
Should depart from his hallowed island, and build on the gleaming height
Of the breast of the earth a city of chariots splendour-dight.