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,