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104 And this high rank is clearly thine—

Lord of the host and well-built town,

Let thy free mind with blessings crown

Those whom thy fates to thee assign.

Of all thy mighty fathers gone,

Whatever tongue should dare proclaim

Through Greece that any hero's fame

In wealth or honours brighter shone,

With folly's mark would stamp his name.

But when thy virtues wake the song,

By flowery ways I pass along.

In youth the valour of thine arm

Shielded thy life from adverse harm.

Hence I declare that thou hast found

A glory which exceeds all bound;

Whether on foot the warriors rage,

Or in equestrian strife engage;

And free from blame my praise shall sound

Thy counsels in maturer age.

Farewell—this hymn across the hoary sea,

As by Phœnician craft, I send to thee.