Classic Poem

As the sons of Homer, the singers of deftly-woven lays,
Ever begin their chants with a prelude in Zeus's praise,
So in the Grove whose glory is chanted in every nation
This hero-athlete hath laid his achievements' first foundation
Where in Nemean Zeus's name are bestowed the victor's bays.

And if She, who unswerving hath guided his feet, even Destiny,
On the path by his forefathers trodden, hath given this man to be
A glory to mighty Athens, he surely is fated victorious,
This son of Timonous, often to pluck the flower most glorious
Of the Isthmian Games, and at Pytho to win the victory;

For 'tis meet that Orion's rising should follow exceeding nigh
To the Pleiad Maids of the Mountain. Few can with Salamis vie
As a nurse of warriors mighty: yea, Hector in Troy's war-leaguer
Heard Aias' challenge; and thee shall thy prowess contest-eager
In the fivefold grapple, O Timodemus, glorify.

Acharnae, as tell old legends, for hero-sons is renowned;
And in all that pertaineth to contests pre-eminent still hath been found
This Timodemus' House: in Parnassus imperial-seated
Have they won four victory-wreaths, strong champions aye undefeated.
Yea, also in royal Pelops' mountain-folds were they crowned.

Eight times by the sons of Corinth; in Nemea withal did they gain
Seven triumph-wreaths; and at home, where Olympian Zeus's fane
Looks down on the contest, garlands whose number passeth the telling.
Let Timodemus, O citizens, hear your acclaim upswelling
Hailing his home-return! Now upraise ye the sweet-ringing strain.