Never Met an Adjective He Didn’t Like

Bacchylides, 2

“Rush, holy-giver, Fame,
To sacred Keos and
Take the graceful-named message
That Argeios seized
Victory in the bold-handed battle.

He reminds us of all the noble deeds
We have shown at the
Isthmus’ famous neck
After we left Euksantius,
The sacred island,
With seventy prizes

The native Muse
Calls out the pipes’ sweet echo
As she uses epinicians to praise
Pantheus’ beloved son.”

ἄ[ϊξον, ὦ] σεμνοδότειρα Φήμα,
ἐς Κ[έον ἱ]εράν, χαριτώνυμ[ον]
φέρουσ᾿ ἀγγελίαν,
ὅτι μ[ά]χας θρασύχειρ<ος> Ἀργεῖο[ς

ἄ]ρατο νίκαν,
καλῶν δ᾿ ἀνέμνασεν, ὅσ᾿ ἐν κλ[εν]νῶι
αὐχένι Ἰσθμοῦ ζαθέαν
λιπόντες Εὐξαντίδα νᾶσον
ἐπεδείξαμεν ἑβδομήκοντα
[σὺ]ν στεφάνοισιν.
καλεῖ δὲ Μοῦσ᾿ αὐθιγενής
γλυκεῖαν αὐλῶν καναχάν,
γεραίρουσ᾿ ἐπινικίοις
Πανθείδα φίλον υἱόν.

Painting in the style of a frieze. A musician plays a lyre on the left and two women lean together listening on the right

Albert Joseph Moore, “A Musician”

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