Chapter_46

8 0 00

Zeus, hurler of thunderbolts tireless-winging,

Most Highest, returneth thy Feast-tide fair

To send me to wed with the lyre subtle-ringing

My song: of the chiefest of all Games singing

To the victor’s triumph my witness I bear.

Yea, the hearts of the good are with joy ever leaping

When friends a harvest of triumph are reaping.

O Kronos’ Son, whose dominion is o’er

Etna, the wind-scourged burden laid

On Typho the demon of heads five-score,

Receive thou this revel-procession arrayed

For a victorv won by the Graces’ aid.