Pindar too, in the Pythian ode addressed to Hiero, says,
Give me the noble Spartan houndCritias tells us—
With whose deep voice Eurotas' banks resound;
While the dark rocks
Of Scyrus give the choicest flocks
[p. 46] Of milky goats; and, prompt at war's alarms,
Brave Argos burnishes the well-proved arms,
The Sicels build the rapid car,
And the fierce Thebans urge the chariot to the war.1
Know ye the land of the fair Proserpine,
Where the cottabus splashes the ominous wine;
Where the lightest and handsomest cars . . .
And what can for tired limbs compareAnd indeed the pottery of Attica is deservedly praised. But Eubulus says, “Cnidian pots, Sicilian platters, and Megarian jars.” And Antiphanes enumerates “mustard, and also scammony juice from Cyprus; cardamums from Miletus; onions from Samothrace; cabbages, kail, and assafœtida from Carthage; thyme from Hymettus, and marjoram from Tenedos.”
With the soft and yielding Thessalian chair?
But no town with Miletus vies
In the bridal bed's rich canopies.
But none the golden bowl can chase,
Or give to brass such varied grace,
As that renowned hardy race
That dwells by Arno's tide;
Phœnicia, mother of the arts,
Letters to learned men imparts;
Thebes scaled the mountain's side,
Bade the tough ash its trunk to yield,
And fill'd with cars the battle-field;
While Carians, masters of the seas,
First launch'd the boat to woo the breeze.
Offspring of clay and furnace bright,
The choicest porcelain clear and light
Boasts, as its birth-place, of the towers
Which Neptune's and Minerva's powers
From ills and dangers shield;
Which beat back war's barbaric wave
When Mede and Persian found a grave
In Marathon's undying field.