POETRY. 
—ooooS————— OOS 35°00 wwowo°w=x34.aas.'’] 
For the Bee. : 
Ji Dr Anderson thinks the following version from Pindar, which was 
made as a college exercise, worth inserting in the Bee, it is much 
at his service. ee 
Great Jove supreme, thy mighty hand 
Wings the swift lightning thro’ the iky ; 
The seasons roll by thy command, 
The winged hours incefsant fly. 
While these the sacred games renew 
Me, with the various sounding lyre, - 
They send the glorious strife to view, 
And all my soul with raptures fire. 
Crown’d with succefs a friend returns, 
With joy exults cach generous soul : 
How ev'ry breast with ardor burns 
To hear how swift he reach’d the goal} 
Thou mighty son of Saturn old, 
Thou o’er mount Etna tow’ring high, 
The load of Typhon, giant bold, ~ 
That dared to afsault the fky 
Presidest still: receive the song, 
Which to the graces ever dear, 
Shall to the victor’s praise belong, 
On all his virtues beeming clear. 
For see on Psaumis’ glowing car 
Glad vict’ry smiling, swiftly flies, 
With olive crown’d, and seen afar, 
To raise with honour to the tkies 
Fair Camerina, blest abode, 
His native city far renowa’d, 
Where first the rapid car he rode; 
His every with with joy be crown’d } 
The bounding steed, his eye delight, 
And social pieasufes glad his soul, 
Fair peace attend him day and night, 
And ev’ry anxious care controul ! 
No falschood e’er fhall stain my song: 
Experience, test of ev’ry deed, 
Clymenus’ son trom scofling tongue 
Oftaunting Lemnian ladies treed. 
