| A strain of plaintive music, played on stringed instruments, and flutes, recalled my attention to the hidden shrine. Of course, I wanted to put my head forward and take the carriage up with a will, as we had been used to do; but no, I had to pull with my head up now, and that took all the spirit out of me, and the strain came on my back and legs. `Then first in Delos did I and Homer, singers both, raise our strain -- stitching song in new hymns -- Phoebus Apollo with the golden sword, whom Leto bare. |
