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Rh Then may the muse her bard inspire,

Who first upon the Dorian lyre

Raised the melodious strain on high

To swell the pomp of victory.

The verdant wreaths that proudly glow

Round the triumphant courser's mane,

Call on the shrill-toned flute to flow,

The varied lyre and well-connected strain.

Which may a due encomium raise

Ænesidamus' son to praise.

And Pisa joins the general claim—

From her proceeds the song of fame,

To whom the umpire's just decree

Awards the meed of victory.

Prompt to fulfil Alcides' high command,

Who bade the verdant olive glow

Twined by th' Ætolian judge's hand

Around the conqueror's brow.

Which erst Amphitryo's godlike son

From Ister's shady fountains bore.

The fairest mark of triumph won

By victor on Olympia's shore.

Gift of the Hyperborean race,

Who worship in Apollo's fane,