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178 Still oft as onward age proceeds,

And in the track paternal leads,

Adorning spacious Athens with renown,

Triumphant in the Isthmian fray,

Timonous' son shall bear away

Her brightest wreath, and oft the Pythian crown.

As where the mountain Pleiads burn,

Not far they see Orion turn.

How potent, Salamis, thy might

To nourish heroes for the fight!

Hector perceived, in Troy's sad hour,

Thy son, intrepid Ajax' power;

And the sustain'd pancratium's praise

Shall thee, oh Timodemus, raise!

Acharnæ's glorious tribe of old

Have flourish'd with their heroes bold;

And foremost in each solemn game

The Timodemidæ proclaim.

They near Parnassus' height obtain'd,

Four times the victor's meed have borne,

And from Corinthian judges gain'd

In glades where valiant Pelops reign'd,

Eight several wreaths their brows adorn.