thou that art a couch of Artemis and a sister of Delos[1], from thee
goeth forth a song of sweet words, to set forth the great glory of
whirlwind-footed steeds in honour of Aitnaian Zeus.

For now the car of Chromios, and Nemea, stir me to yoke to his
victorious deeds the melody of a triumphal song. And thus by that
man's heaven-sped might I lay my foundations in the praise of gods. In
good fortune men speak well of one altogether: and of great games the
Muse is fain to tell.

Sow then some seed of splendid words in honour of this isle, which
Zeus, the lord of Olympus, gave unto Persephone, and bowed his hair
toward her in sign that this teeming Sicily he would exalt to be the
best land in the fruitful earth, with gorgeous crown of citadels. And
the son of Kronos gave unto her a people that wooeth mailed war, a
people of the horse and of the spear, and knowing well the touch of
Olympia's golden olive-leaves. Thus shoot I arrows many, and without
falsehood I have hit the mark.

And now at the doors of the hall of a hospitable man I stand to sing
a goodly song, where is prepared for me a friendly feast, and not
unwonted in that house are frequent stranger-guests: thus hath he
found good friends to pour a quenching flood on the mouldering fire of
reproach.

Each hath his several art: but in straight paths it behoveth him to
walk, and to strive hard wherein his nature setteth him. Thus worketh
strength in act, and mind in counsels, when one is born to foresee
what shall come after. In thy nature, son of Agesidamos, are uses both
for this and that.