Chapter_166

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Such horror is prisoned through years unending

’Neath the heights dark-leaved in the earth’s embrace,

While his back is furrowed with gory rending

By the flints of his restless resting-place!

O Zeus, may we in thy sight find grace

Who dost make this mountain thine habitation,

This rich land’s forefront, whose namesake-town

Her founder ennobled, what time his nation

Was “of Etna” published by proclamation

Of the Pythian herald who spake the renown

Of Hiero’s car-won victory-crown.