Chapter_105

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Archilochus’ chant of the sweet voice singing

The Olympian hymn of victory,

With its threefold measure of triumph outringing,

Sufficed to lead onward the revelry

To the Hill of Kronos, as paced along

Epharmostus amidst of his comrade-throng.

But now with such soul-stirring arrows of song

As in these our days fly fittingly

Shot from the Muses’ bows far-ranging,

Sing praises, my soul, unto Zeus, whose hand

Hurls red-glowing lightnings sin-avenging;

And the holy foreland of Elis-land

Praise thou, the land which long agone

Pelops the hero, Lydia’s son,

With Hippodameia for dowry won,

The glorious clasp of her wedlock-band.