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A race renown'd in ancient lore,

Who their own high encomium bore,

And by their vigorous deeds could yield

To such as till Pieria's field

Full many a hymn—his hands around

The cæstus' leathern safeguard bound,

From the same tribe in Pytho's fray

Brave Callias erst the prize obtain'd,

And Phœbus' high approval gain'd,

From golden-sceptred Lato sprung;

Whose triumphs at the close of day

The Graces' choir in bright array

Have by Castalia's waters sung.

And where the Isthmian bridge divides

Th' unwearied and opposing tides,

To him the Amphictyons' high decree

Assign'd their palm of victory,

Who by triennial bullocks slain

Appeased the monarch of the main.

Him too the lion's parsley crown'd

Triumphant on that sacred ground

Which lies beneath the shade outspread

Of Phlius' ancient mountain's head.

Open to bards on every side

Is the fair theme, the entrance wide,

Who to this glorious island raise

The tribute of poetic praise.

To them the Æacidæ have shown

Their mighty virtues' ample fame;

While far o'er earth and sea has flown

The sound of their illustrious name.

Even to the distant Æthiops' seat,

Ere Memnon homeward urged his wandering feet.