whose song are ye most glad?"

Then do you all with one voice make answer:

"A blind man is he, and he dwells in rocky Chios; his songs will ever
have the mastery, ay, in all time to come."

But I shall bear my renown of you as far as I wander over earth to the
fairest cities of men, and they will believe my report, for my word is
true. But, for me, never shall I cease singing of Apollo of the Silver
Bow, the Far-darter, whom fair-tressed Leto bore.

O Prince, Lycia is thine, and pleasant Maeonia, and Miletus, a winsome
city by the sea, and thou, too, art the mighty lord of sea-washed Delos.



THE FOUNDING OF DELPHI


The son of glorious Leto fares harping on his hollow harp to rocky Pytho,
clad in his fragrant raiment that waxes not old, and beneath the golden
plectrum winsomely sounds his lyre. Thence from earth to Olympus, fleet
as thought, he goes to the House of Zeus, into the Consistory of the
other Gods, and anon the Immortals bethink them of harp and minstrelsy.
And all the Muses together with sweet voice in antiphonal chant replying,
sing of the imperishable gifts of the Gods, and the sufferings of men,
all that they endure from the hands of the undying Gods, lives witless
and helpless, men unavailing to find remede for death or buckler against
old age. Then the fair-tressed Graces and boon Hours, and Harmonia, and