Chapter_469

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And in all the deeds of their hands⁠—in hurling

The javelin, and when they sped far-whirling

Across the field the discus of stone:⁠—

For as yet was no fivefold contest known;

But each of the several strifes was striven

By itself, and to each was its own prize given.

So, many a time and oft, their hair

Wreathed with the victory-garlands fair,

These twain where Dirke’s fount upleapeth,

Or where Eurotas’ swift flood sweepeth,

Bowed thanking the nurturing waters there,