No More Learning

thy well -peopled town ; To the bright rulers of the skies
He bade the six twin - altars rise ,
And spread to each celestial guest
Of oxen slain the liberal feast ;
Five times the sun's diurnalblaze Each well - contested strife surveys ,
The strong - yoked chariot's           speed , Drawn by fleet mule or generous steed ;
IN THE EIGHTY - SECOND
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PINDAR .