His lord, the ruler of Syracuse-town,
The king who joyeth in gallant steeds.
Flasheth afar his name’s renown,
Flasheth from Sicily far oversea
Where Pelops, the exile from Lydia’s meads,
Founded a hero-colony—
Pelops, beloved of the Earth-enfolder,
Poseidon the strong, when the Fate of the Thread
Drew him resplendent with ivory shoulder
From the undefiled laver, whom men deemed dead.
There be marvels full many; and fables hoary
With inventions manifold broidered o’er
Falsify legend, I wot, with a story
Wherein truth liveth no more.