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So past them all the rapid circle flies:
His friends, while loud applauses shake the skies,
With force conjoin'd heave off the weighty prize.
Those, who in skilful archery contend,
He next invites the twanging bow to bend;
And twice ten axes casts amidst the round,
Ten double-edged, and ten that singly wound
The mast, which late a first-rate galley bore,
The hero fixes in the sandy shore;
To the tall top a milk-white dove they tie,
The trembling mark at which their arrows fly.
"
Whose weapon strikes yon fluttering bird, shall bear
These two-edged axes, terrible in war;
The single, he whose shaft divides the cord."
He said: experienced Merion took the word;
And skilful Teucer: in the helm they threw
Their lots inscribed, and forth the latter flew.
Swift from the string the sounding arrow flies;
But flies unbless'd! No grateful sacrifice,
No firstling lambs, unheedful! didst thou vow
To Phoebus, patron of the shaft and bow.
For this, thy well-aim'd arrow turn'd aside,
Err'd from the dove, yet cut the cord that tied:
Adown the mainmast fell the parted string,
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