Then for those great Games he ordained for ever
Just judgment and a Five-year Festival
By the steep banks of Alpheus’ hallowed river.
But of fair trees and tall
In Kronian Pelops’ glen, that chosen place,
His garden-close, was as a desert bare.
Him-seemed it lay unscreened beneath the blaze
Of scorching Helios’ arrow-darting rays.
Wherefore he yearned to fare