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DELOS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O when, my soul, wilt thou resound the praise
Last Line: Amid the sister isles on ocean's breast.
Alternate Author Name(s): Kallimachos
Subject(s): Delos (island), Greece


O WHEN, my soul, wilt thou resound the praise
Of Delos, nurse to Phoebus' infant days,
Or of the Cyclades? Most sacred these
Of isles, that rise amid surrounding seas;
And fame and hymns divine to them belong:
But Delos chief demands the Muse's song;
For there the god who leads the vocal train
Was swathed around; and on the Delian plain
His infant limbs were washed: the sacred lay
Triumphant rose to hail the God of day.
As who forgets Pimplea, the divine,
Is soon forsaken by the tuneful Nine;
Thus on the bard, neglecting Cynthus' shores,
Avenging Phoebus all his fury pours:
To Delos then let votive lays belong,
And Cynthian Phoebus will approve my song.
Though beat by billows, and though vexed with storms,
The sacred isle its deep foundations forms
Unshook by winds, uninjured by the deep.
High o'er the waves appears the Cynthian steep;
And from the flood the sea-mew bends his course
O'er cliffs impervious to the swiftest horse:
Around the rocks the Icarian surges roar,
Collect new foam, and whiten all the shore
Beneath the lonely caves, and breezy plain
Where fishers dwelt of old above the main.
No wonder Delos, first in rank, is placed
Amid the sister isles on ocean's breast.





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