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SEVENTH ISTHMIAN ODE.
253

Who, victor in the Isthmian fray,
Bears the pancratium's palm away;
Conspicuous in triumphant might, 35
And form pre-eminently bright; 32


While valour with an equal pace
Accompanies corporeal grace.
The dark-hair'd muses crown his fame
Whose triumphs a new grace have shed 40
On his maternal uncle's name,
Him lately in th' embattled field
The deity with brazen shield
Hath number'd with the dead.
But honour still the brave attends. 36 45


This let the patriot warrior know
Who drives the cloud of slaughter that impends
O'er his loved native soil, upon the foe.
His fame among the citizens shall bloom,
Growing through life, and living in the tomb. 50
But thou, Diodotus' brave son,
Rival of Meleager's fame,
Who emulatest Hector's name,
And glories by Amphiaraus won; 54
Breath'dst forth in war's first ranks thy flower of life,
Where the most brave sustain'd war's hopeless strife.


Then grief ineffable I bore;
But now the god, whose potent might
Girds the firm earth, day's splendour bright
Gives me for winter's gloom that lower'd before. 60
The victor's praise will I declare,
And fit the chaplet to his hair;
Nor let th' immortal train molest
With vengeful ire my tranquil breast,
Since to the destined term of age 65
Calm I approach life's closing stage,
And seize the fleeting pleasures of the day;
Though subject to unequal fate,