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" they shall raise up many images to him in temples, and as men thrice always offer to thee perfect hecatombs at the three-year periods." The son of Saturn spoke, and nodded with his dark-blue brows, and the ambrosial curls shook down from the immortal head of the king, and he made great Olympus tremble. Thus speaking, counselling Jove nodded with his head. Be propitious, O thou sewn [formerly in the thigh of Jove], woman-mad. But we bards sing thee both commencing and ending, nor is it possible to be mindful of sacred song, forgetting thee. And do thou thus hail, O thigh-sewn Bacchus, with thy mother Semele, whom they call Thyone.