Shall I sing how at the first Leto bare you to be the joy of men, as she rested against Mount Cynthus in that rocky isle, in sea-girt Delos -while on either hand a dark wave rolled on landwards driven by shrill winds -whence arising you rule over all mortal men?Īmong those who are in Crete, and in the township of Athens, and in the isle of Aegina and Euboea, famous for ships, in Aegae and Eiresiae and Peparethus near the sea, in Thracian Athos and Pelion's towering heights and Thracian Samos and the shady hills of Ida, All mountain-peaks and high headlands of lofty hills and rivers flowing out to the deep and beaches sloping seawards and havens of the sea are your delight. How, then, shall I sing of you who in all ways are a worthy theme of song?įor everywhere, O Phoebus, the whole range of song is fallen to you, both over the mainland that rears heifers and over the isles. The lord Apollo and Artemis who delights in arrows her in Ortygia, and him in rocky Delos, as you rested against the great mass of the Cynthian hill hard by a palm-tree by the streams of Inopus. Rejoice, blessed Leto, for you bare glorious children, Then she leads him to a seat and makes him sit:Īnd the Father gives him nectar in a golden cup welcoming his dear son, while the other gods make him sit down there, and queenly Leto rejoices because she bare a mighty son and an archer. As he goes through the house of Zeus, the gods tremble before him and all spring up from their seats when he draws near, as he bends his bright bow.īut Leto alone stays by the side of Zeus who delights in thunder and then she unstrings his bow, and closes his quiver, and takes his archery from his strong shoulders in her hands and hangs them on a golden peg against a pillar of his father's house. I will remember and not be unmindful of Apollo who shoots afar.
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