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Unformatted text preview: And at the board by Bacchus graced, The purpling bowl to fill. Grassy wreath and larch's bough Twined around each shaggy brow. Daughter of Nereus, loud to thee Chaunted the maids of Thessaly. Their song was of a child unborn, Whose light should beam like summer morn, Whose praise by the Delian seer was sung, And hymned by Chiron's tuneful tongue. "Thetis, mark thy warrior son, Gift with many a Myrmidon, Armed with spear and flaming brand, Wasting Priam's ancient land. He shall ne'er to foeman quail; He shall case his limbs in mail, Casque, and greaves, and breastplate's fold, All by Vulcan wrought of gold, Moulded in the forge of heaven, By his goddess-mother given. He shall be a hero's name, Godlike might, and deathless fame." Thus the gods propitious smiled On Peleus and the ocean child; Lady! not such nuptial wreath Shall Argives bid thee wear, But with the flowers of death Entwine thy clustering hair....
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- Spring '08
- World Literature