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Oh! could I in the muses' car

Soar, eloquent of speech, afar—

Since bold emprise and power belong

To the high-favour'd child of song.

Inspired with hospitable aim

I come the virtues to proclaim,

Which round thy honour'd temples twine,

Lampromachus, the Isthmian pine;

When both in one triumphant day

The victor's chaplet bore away.

Two other joys at Corinth's gate

His brow in after times await;

And victory twice in Nemea's grove

The wreath for Epharmostus wove.

In Argos' strife of men renown'd,

While yet a boy at Athens crown'd;

When in the Marathonian field,

Departing from the beardless train.

He made the veteran warriors yield,

The cup of silver to obtain.

Oh! with what matchless swiftness there

He ran the circus' destined round,

While shouting myriads rend the air

With admiration's joyful sound.

His lonely form and deeds of might

Bursting upon the raptured sight.

Wondrous in the Parrhasian plain

Before contending hosts he strove,

When all the congregated train

Hallowed thy feast, Lycæan Jove.

And when Pallene's robe he bears,

Warm refuge from the chilling airs.