Chapter_159

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O Daughters of Zeus of the Gods most high,

Euphrosyne lover of song, and Aglaia,

And thou who dost joy in the chant, Thalia,

Hearken ye now to our suppliant cry!

Look down as our triumphing troop sweeps by,

As onward with lightsome foot it is pacing

The victor’s fortune of happiness gracing.

I come hither the praise of Asopichus singing,

In Lydian measure my chant outringing,

For that now is the Minyan House victorious

By your grace at Olympia. Fly, Echo, telling

Unto old Kleodamus the tidings glorious

That shall brighten Persephone’s dark-walled dwelling,

How his son in the Vale far-famous in story

Hath enwreathed his tresses with garlands of glory.