Chapter_441

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Ah, but my tongue would fail me to tell all glories wherein the hallowed close

Of Argos hath shared; and ill to encounter is jealousy of praise-weary foes.

Yet, yet awaken the lyre of the lovely strings! Be thy rapt meditation

Of the prowess of wrestlers! The strife for the buckler of bronze forth summons a nation

To the sacrifice of oxen to Hera, to conflict’s decision, where Oulias’ son,

Theaius, the twice-triumphant, to rest from the toils so unflinchingly borne hath won.