Chapter_485

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After the wont of the Panhellenes horse-rearing he fostered still:

He was constant at every feast of the Gods: no wind’s breath blew so chill

On his guest-fain board as to make him furl his canvas-spread;

But far as the Phasis in summertide’s gales the fame of him sped.

And in wintertide anchored his guest-renown in broad Nile’s bed.