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38 The god who joys to bless thee now,

Propitious hear each future vow!

Him shall my constant praise await,

Who skill'd to train the generous steed,

To every guest unfolds his gate,

And tranquil aids his native state

Nurtured to each pacific deed.

No falsehood e'er shall stain my lay,

Experience proves the mail, and will his worth display.

From taunts by Lemnian women made,

This Clymenus' brave offspring freed.

The course, in brazen arms array'd,

He left to take the victor's meed,

And thus Hypsipyle address'd:—

Tis I who gain the palm of speed,

Mine the firm hand, th' undaunted breast—

Howe'er upon my youthful brow

Are shed untimely hues of snow."