This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
O Ismenus, deck yourself with garlands! Break forth into dancing, you paved streets of our seven-gated city! come Dirce, fount of waters fair;  and joined with her you nymphs of Asopus, come from your father's waves to add your voices to our hymn, the victor's prize that Heracles has won.  O Pythian rock with forests crowned, and haunts of the Muses on Helicon! you will come to my city and her walls with cries of joy; where the earth-born crop sprang to view,  a warrior-host with shields of brass, who are handing on their realm to children's children, a divine light to Thebes.