Oh, come now, Muses,
and go to the craggy sacred place
upon the
far-seen, twin-peaked Parnassus,
celebrated and dear to us, Pierian maidens.
Repose on the snow-clad mountain top;
celebrate the Pythian Lord
with the goldensword, Phoebus,
whom Leto bore unassisted
on the
Delian rock surrounded by silvery olives,
the luxuriant plant
which the
Goddess Pallas
long ago brought forth.
Translated by Richard Hooker
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