Page:Pindar and Anacreon.djvu/226

218 At Pytho, from the Grecian train

Of old he bore the meed away.

With like success on Nemea's plain

He strove, and in the Isthmian fray,

And to the muses gave to sow

The wreaths that should adorn his brow.

Three the sea's narrow portals yield,

And three the venerable field

That owns Adrastus' sway.

Oh Jove! his tongue will not declare

The object of his mental prayer.

Yet never with a slothful heart

Thy grace he begs thee to impart,

Since his own boldness will the glory share.

Known to the god the truths I sing:

And he who soars on venturous wing,

In the high contest to prevail,

Can verify o'er all my tale.

Pisa the highest honour claims,

Alcides rules her sacred games.

Him the sweet intervals of song

Have twice proclaimed in Athens' festal throng.

In earth concocted by the flame,

To Juno's manly people came,

The sacred olive's produce, brought

In vessels with devices wrought.

Glories thy steps, Thiæus, trace

From thy maternal uncles' race,

Whose honours make the Graces fair

And high Tyndaridæ their care.

Were I in kindred's social chain

To Thrasyclus and Antias bound,