Chapter_266

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No fairer prelude of the minstrel’s victory-chant can be

Than praise of Athens’ mighty town,

When he would hymn the far-prevailing Alkmaionidae,

And their swift steeds’ renown.

Yea, for what fatherland, what habitation,

O singer, canst thou name

That doth transcend, through all the Hellene nation,

Fair Athens’ fame?

There is no city but therethrough doth that proud story ring

Of King Erechtheus’ burghers told,

Who made thy shrine in hallowed Pytho, Phoebus Harper-King,

A marvel to behold.

In Isthmian contests five were ye victorious

Inspiring the bard’s strain;

At Zeus’ Olympian Feast one prize most glorious,

At Kirrha twain,

Thou and thy sires, O Megakles, achieved.

In your fair fortune I delight,

Yet for the recompense my soul is grieved

That envy doth requite

Your noble deeds withal. Yet long-enduring

Prosperity still brings, they say,

Evil with good; for there is no assuring

That bliss shall stay.