Or the Spartan maiden with armor laden,
No burden of war declining.
Not by Alpheus' sacred stream,
Nor Boeotia's musical water,
Is there any fair who can compare80
With our lovely Corinthian daughter.
Our Thessalian prince excels,
In beauty of form and face,
Even Bacchus, the son of the fierce-flaming one,
Who yokes the wild tigers in place.85