In their land, which they name the Grove of Olympus’ Lord,
Where the sons of Aenesidamus gained the award
Of honours whose memory aye is enscroUed.
For, O Thrasybulus, known from of old
To the halls of thine ancient line
Is the winsome charm of the song that leaps
From the lips, as on the procession sweeps
In triumph for victory—thine!