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Rh

In vain with virtuous deeds the isle

Where cities ruled in justice smile;

Since from old time her glorious name

Excites her sons to deeds of fame:

Great heroes nourish'd to the fight

Of swiftness and victorious might;

And tribes of meaner mortals round

Throughout the earth her praises sound.

But all my vacant hours will fail;

Ere to the lyre and dulcet strain

I can commit the lengthen'd tale

Satiety the mind will pain.

Thy triumphs now, heroic boy,

The labours of my muse employ,

Who shall convey with winged speed

The record of thy latest deed;

For in th' Olympic wrestler's game

Tracking thy noble uncle's fame,

Thine efforts Theognotus not disgrace:

And in the strong-limb'd Isthmian fray

The wreaths thy vigour bore away

The glories of Clitomachus efface.

Thy deeds, the tribe of Midylus that raise,

Deserve Oïcleus son's prophetic praise;

Who erst in Thebes beheld with prescient sight

The martial youth still constant in the fight,

When having now twice left their Argive home,

To the seven-portall'd town th' Epigoni were come.

When thus he spoke: "Of those whose heart

Nature with generous ardour fires,

I see th' impetuous youth depart,

Warm'd with the spirit of their sires.