The Anatolian Connection: Traditional Epithets of Apollo in the Iliad

Red-figure hydria at the British Museum decorated with Apollo pursuing a woman, ca. 450 BC.

The Anatolian Connection: Traditional Epithets of Apollo in the Iliad

By Garrett Lincoln Ashlock


Ever since Milman Parry’s foundational study on Homer’s use of traditional epithets, L’Épithète traditionnelle dans Homère (1928), scholars have recognized that Homer relied on an ancient deposit of epithetic formulae due to the form of his dactylic hexameter. In other words, the poet had to “fill up” the line with enough dactyls and spondees while minding still ending a word at a line’s conclusion and usually at its caesura. Parry argues that Homer, because he composed his epics orally, relied on traditional (in the sense of being passed down by a culture, poet–to–poet) epithets fitted to the meter as a compositional aid when revision was impossible.1 He provides, as an example, the formula « τὸν [τὴν] δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα… », which appears twenty-seven different times in the Iliad and Odyssey and is invariably followed by an epithet, like « βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη » or « θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη ». Each of these sections—called hemistichs—begins or ends at the feminine caesura in the third foot, with the first hemistich, by the meter’s rules, ending in a short syllable, like ἔπειτα. The epithets can also be recombined with other predicates; either way, the poet is drawing from a repository of culturally meaningful epithets.

Parry also concludes that these traditional epithets preserve non-Ionic and even non-Greek elements, just as the poems’ proper names do, and that their use is actually a deliberate attempt by the poet to create a “noble style”—an archaic and exotic register (to his contemporary audience), reminiscent of the dialects spoken by his Bronze Age heroes—by the introduction of such a “‘foreign’ element.”2 If this assertion is correct, then Homer’s traditional epithets doubtless display ancient and geographically diffuse etymologies that demonstrate the cultural exchange of the Homeric Age. Moreover, their survival into the epic idiom suggests that they were preserved by the tradition over others for a reason—namely, they add a meaningful and distinctive coloration to the subjects they modify. I propose, then, to examine the epithets of a particular god, Apollo, in the Iliad. I argue that the epithets given to him by Homer suggest a keen awareness of his cross-cultural cult in the Homeric Age, particularly the special devotion to him in Anatolia. Apollo, the most Hellenic of the gods to later Greeks, is envisioned as a divine mediator between the Greeks and Trojans.


The Name “Apollo”

Let us begin with the theonym “Apollo” itself, the precise origin of which remains unknown. Recent scholarship, however, has increasingly supported a connection between Ἀπόλλων and the god Āppaliunāš, who is mentioned in the 13th c. BC Hittite “Manapa-Tarhunta letter” as a god of the Troad polis Wilusa, identified as the Ilion of the Iliad.3 There is, moreover, a plethora of internal evidence in Homer’s epic that supports this connection. Bachvarova (2022) observes that of all the gods, only Zeus, Athena, and Apollo—the first being a sky god ancestral to Greeks and Anatolians and the second likely derived from a pre-Greek theonym—are invoked by name in both Greek and Trojan prayer and are identified with multiple regional cult-sites.4 Apollo in particular is invoked by name without Zeus or Athena only by the Trojans.5 Two notable instances of identifying prayers occur in Iliad I.3739, wherein Chryses recognizes Apollo’s rule in Chryse, Killa, and Tenedos, all located in northwestern Anatolia, and in XVI.51415, wherein the Lycian warrior Glaukos addresses Apollo as being “somewhere in the fertile land of Lycia or in the Troad” (ὅς που Λυκίης ἐν πίονι δήμῳ | εἲς ἢ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ). These toponyms, together with Homer’s recognition of Apollo’s well-developed cult in Chryse, suggest the poet was intimately familiar with the fact—likely passed down through oral tradition—that Apollo was not only worshiped by Anatolians but that he also had regional cult centers in the Troad. In addition, as I will show, these are not the only Anatolian toponyms associated with the god.

Although this trans-Hellespontine veneration is strongly substantiated, the origins of the theonym Apollo and, therefore, his cult, are unclear. Various scholars have proposed Greek (Rutherford 2020); a non-Indo-European Pre-Greek language (ibid.; Beekes 2003, 3); an Anatolian language like Hittite or Lycian (Beekes 2003, 14; Brown 2004); a name for a KAL-god, associated with hunting and plagues, ancestral to both Hellenic and Anatolian (Bachvarova 2022); or even—though it is probably just an instance of interpretatio—a Syro-Ugaritic deity (Burkert 1985 [1977]) as his origin.6 Most intriguing are Brown’s (2004, 248f.) etymology connecting the name to the Luwian appaliya–, “The One of Entrapping” or “The Hunter,” and Rutherford’s (2020, 111ff.) and Bachvarova’s (2022, 108) link to the Hittite god Appaluwa, mentioned in an Arzawan plague ritual. These etymologies, respectively, match Apollo’s association with the bow and arrow and with plagues in the Iliad. Regardless of his particular ancestry, it is likely that there was a widespread cult in the Bronze Age Eastern Mediterranean of a god known to the Greeks by the Luwian-derived epithet “Apollo.” This god was apparently associated with various local names and attributes, but also with common ones like hunting, plagues, and purity (all of which will be discussed below). The Homeric tradition preserves these cross-cultural connections in Apollo’s attributes and epithets, some of which I will now explore, and the poet uses them to signal the god’s Anatolian allegiances.


Φοῖβος (Phoebus)

Of all his epithets, Phoebus (Φοῖβος) is Apollo’s most common yet most obscure. There is good reason, then, to suggest that it is his most ancient. Homer uses it a whopping forty-nine times—thirty-three more than ἑκάεργος. The word is traditionally glossed as “pure, clear, bright,” but since it has no other definite cognates in Greek, this might not have been its original meaning.7 What is clear, however, is that Apollo’s association with light had become so prevalent that by the 5th century BC he was conflated with Helios, the sun god, and by analogy so too was Artemis with Selene, the moon goddess.8 Nothing in the Iliad, however, supports this meaning—save, perhaps, the epithet ἀργυρότοξος (cf. I.37), related to ἀργός, “shining white, brilliant.”9 These words, however, seem to be unrelated, and Chantraine (2009) suggests that Φοῖβος was originally a noun of agent, meaning “the purifier.”10 This meaning fits with the Arzawan plague ritual and the myth of Apollo’s purification of Orestes at Delphi. In fact, in Aeschylus’s Eumenides (II.270-73), which preserves this tradition, Apollo is mentioned only as «θε[ὸς] | Φοῖβ[ος]», suggesting, perhaps, an agentive use of the epithet meaning “the purifying God,” though it is unlikely that the playwright had this sense in mind in 454.

The origins of the word itself are unclear. Beekes (2010) does not even offer a guess. Chantraine (2009) suggests that the root originally ended with the consonant *gw and compares it to ἀφικτόν, “impure, repugnant,” since the *gw > β sound change occurs before back vowels in Hellenic: cf. PIE *gwốm > Ep. Gr. βῶν.11 Φοῖβος would necessarily be an o-grade, and since no cognate term has yet been identified in any IE language, this hypothesis remains unproven. It is certain, at least, that Φοῖβος cannot have come from Hittite if it did indeed originally contain *gw, because this consonant never changes into a labial stop or fricative in Hittite.12 However, absent any identifiable proto-form, the epithet’s origins remain unclear. All that can be said is that it was likely widespread and ancient in the time of Homer, since he has both the Greeks and the Trojans invoke Phoebus Apollo. The epithet, then, lends credence to the idea that Apollo’s cult as the Purifier was transnational even in the Bronze Age.



The epithet Σμινθεῦ, found in Iliad I.39, is an hapax legomenon that certain Hellenistic scholiasts like Aristarchus and Didymus (see below) recognized as Anatolian. This designation makes good sense. It is only used by the Trojan priest Chryses in proximity to toponymic epithets referencing Apollo’s cult at Chryse, Killa, and Tenedos, implying that Σμινθεῦ was another indigenous theonym used for the god in the Troad.13 Two different traditions have sought to identify its semantic meaning. The first, following the majority of scholiasts and modern scholars, glosses Σμινθεῦ as “destroyer of mice,” perhaps related to a supposed dialectal word for mice, σμίνθος, found in the Mysian dialect of the Troad or in Crete. In this interpretation, Chryses invokes Apollo in his capacity as a plague god to smite the Achaeans.14

Recently, however, several scholars have rejected this meaning in favor of a toponymic epithet, following another tradition recorded by Aristarchus. He argues the name is geographic, referencing Apollo’s worship at a cult site in the northern Anatolian town of Sminthia.15 Bachvarova (2016 & 2022) has recently argued the name is toponymic based on recently-discovered Theban Linear B tablets, which list some Anatolians in attendance at a festival, including a Milesian (mi-ra-ti-jo), a to-ro-wo (perhaps a Trojan), and a “Smintheus” (si-mi-te-u).16 For Bachvarova, this apparently geographic anthronym supports Aristarchus’s suggestion of an Anatolian (perhaps even Mysian) topographic theonym.17 On internal evidence, it would be sensible that Chryses addresses Apollo with a toponym after listing several of his cult sites. On the other hand, Palamidis (2019) argues on the same basis that the theonym is not a toponym because it begins a new line following the places wherein Apollo is said to be worshiped. Instead, she proposes—after calling the “mouse-killer” etymology a “Hellenistic innovation”—that the name is a poetic epithet meaning “O fragrant/minty one,” connected with the words μίνθα/μίνθος, which are undoubtedly pre-Greek.18 Ι find her suggestion spurious; first, because she uses specious reasoning to assert that Σμινθεῦ cannot be a toponym, as the semantic environment of Iliad I.3739 certainly does not preclude this possibility and actually favors a fourth toponym following the previous three. Second, she does not seem to be aware of the Theban Linear B tablet. While a toponym can plausibly be applied to both a human and a god, I doubt the Smintheus of Thebes was identified by an epithet, coined by a traditional poet, meaning “minty.” The most robust and recent evidence, therefore, points to Σμινθεῦ being an Anatolian epiclesis originating at a cult site in the Troad.

No matter its origin, scholiasts and modern commentators are united by the word’s weirdness. In all likelihood, Homer preserved a word both archaic and foreign to add a sense of antiquity and otherness to Chryses’s prayer. Bachvarova (2022) writes, “In any case, the term might have been so rarified that it signaled to Homer’s audience first and foremost in-group status,” arguing that Homer uses the epithet to give Apollo an Anatolian flavor.19 Faraone (2021), who favors the traditional mice-killing etymology, nevertheless calls it an “old and strange local epithet (unique, really),” advancing the hypothesis that Book I of the Iliad preserves an epichoric hymn “designed for performance in the local sanctuary of Apollo Smintheus on the Troad.”20 Palamidis acknowledges that the Iliad contains “nombreux termes anciens ‘fossilisés’” [“a number of archaic, ‘fossilized’ terms”] used by the poet to add antiquity and authenticity.21 Homer, then, probably drew this word from an ancient tradition that was aware of an Anatolian cult to Apollo Smintheus in the Bronze Age.



This rare epithet, curiously, is first used by Athena in Iliad IV.101 as a taunt to the Trojan Pandaros, a renowned archer, daring him to fire at Menelaus, whom she protects. Yet clearly, the theonym is not irreverent, for at line 119, Pandaros himself sacrifices a hecatomb to « Ἀπόλλωνι Λυκηγενέϊ ». The taunt instead seems to dare Pandaros to pray to his god, Ἀπόλλων Λυκηγενής, that he may shoot and kill the Lacedaemonian Menelaus, whom Pallas Athena protects. The taunt, then, suggests a special protective relationship between the Trojan and Apollo, analogous to that between the Spartan and Athena.

Therefore, it is slightly surprising when Pandaros himself calls upon Apollo Λυκηγενής. This epithet, according to many scholiasts and modern commentators, is a rare one meaning “Lycian-born.”22 « *Λύκη » appears to be an ancient borrowing from Hittite Lukka, an exonym applied indiscriminately by the empire to all Luwians but especially to those in southwestern Anatolia, who were in league with Wilusa against the Hittites.23 The epithet Λυκηγενής apparently preserves this older Hittite name for the land and people; Λυκίη (cf. XVI.514) seems to be its Hellenized form. This dichotomy suggests the theonym itself is a partial loan from Hittite, either directly or via a language spoken in Western Anatolia. Apollo was traditionally associated with Lycia; his mother Leto was the principal goddess there, and this association was reinforced by the renown Lycians had as archers.24 Pandaros, however, is a Trojan, not a Lycian, although he is called one numerous times. Tsagalis (2012) argues that “Pandaros is not associated with Lycia in general, but only when his excellence as an archer is emphasized,” such as at Iliad V.10105 and 16978.25 By that same token, whenever Pandaros is associated with archery and Lycia, he is associated with Apollo. Athena’s mocking dare for him to supplicate Apollo the Lycian before shooting Menelaus then makes perfect sense.

It is not only the Iliad that preserves Apollo’s connection with Lycia. Beekes (2003), who supports an Anatolian origin of Apollo, cites Simonides, PMG 519 fr. 55 (« Λύκιον ») as evidence that the Delians called upon Apollo the Lycian at Delphi.26 Leto is associated with Lycia, but so too is Artemis according to the 7th c. BC Letoon trilingual, which names a natr, Leto, and Artemis as protectors of the Lycian polis. Laroche (1979) equates the stele’s Natrbbijemi with « Ἀπολλόδοτος », and the stele certainly mentions another god among Leto’s children besides Artemis.27 Brown (2004) takes the rather ingenious step of arguing that this natr is not a Lycian word at all but borrowed from a language like Egyptian, where the word simply means “god.” Under this interpretation, Apollo is simply referred to as “the god,” indicating his primary position in the Lycian pantheon. Brown shows the Aramaic translation of the Lycian text simply uses “the god” (‘il’) for natr, supporting the argument that the word is simply a general noun rather than a particular theonym.28 If his suggestion is valid, then Apollo would be not just a Lycian god, but the Lycian god, one worshipped so extensively and prominently that he became synonymous with the name “god” itself.

Brown’s argument does not prove that Apollo’s cult originated in Lycia, but the evidence as a whole suggests that it maintained a strong presence there in the Late Bronze Age. Homer certainly seems to record traditional knowledge of Apollo’s southern Anatolian worship—even origin, as Iliad XVI.51415 suggests. Apollo’s constant association with archery in the epics might be a chicken–and–egg dilemma since this trait has an ancient history, but it was likely reinforced by his Lycian connection. Tsagalias’s evidence certainly points in this direction, given Apollo’s relationship with Lycia is mentioned in tandem with Pandaros’s archery and Apollonian bow. Homer, then, seems to have preserved Apollo’s primary religious significance to the Lycians. The question is whether he also preserved Lycian traditions of Apollo’s archery or if this characteristic was incorporated into his depiction from another source. In any case, Ἀπόλλων Λυκηγενής shows the poet’s knowledge of the god’s transnational cult in the Bronze Age.



Finally, we reach an epithet perhaps related to Apollo’s aforementioned archery: ἑκατηβόλος, as in the Homeric formula « μῆνιν ἀλευάμενος ἑκατηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος ».29 This is another epithet with many proposed meanings but no clear one, so a non-Greek origin must be investigated. Snell (1991) treats it as a metrically lengthened form of ἑκηβόλος, another Apollonian epithet.30 While Homer certainly uses the two epithets to convey similar semantic values, only in different formulae per the meter, they seem etymologically unrelated. Ἑκηβόλος demonstrably had a digamma, deriving from *ϝέκα- : ἑκῶν and meaning something like “hitting at will.”31 Ἑκατηβόλος, on the other hand, appears derived from a completely different root, though the question of a digamma remains.32

It seems related to Ἑκάτη, an Anatolian folk goddess syncretized (or identified from the outset) with Artemis.33 This theonym finds its way into several Anatolian personal names, including Ἑκαταῖος, Ἑκατήνωρ, Ἑκατᾶς, etc.34 The name was widespread enough along the Ionian Sea that it was quickly adopted by the Greeks and conflated with similar forms like ἑκηβόλος and ἑκατηβόλος.35 These semantic comminglings make it difficult to identify true and false cognates or derivatives. Nonetheless, given Ἑκάτη is a demonstrably antique and Anatolian epithet of Artemis, it is quite likely that the potentially later term ἑκατηβόλος is either derived or cognate with this name, given the siblings often share the same appellations and are probably Anatolian gods. Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1955 [1931]) was convinced that ἑκάτη and ἑκάτος were the feminine and masculine forms of the same Anatolian word, from which the Greeks formed both ἑκηβόλος and ἑκατηβόλος. While the former proposal seems unlikely now, there has not been a convincing counter-etymology proposed for the latter.

Brown (2004) daringly attempts to solve the conundrum by posing that the word was borrowed from a hypothetical Anatolian (probably Luwian/Lycian) word *sekata, meaning “arrow.” He attempts to connect this reconstruction to the Latin sagitta, making ἑκατηβόλος, meaning “arrow-thrower,” a plausible meaning.36 Sagitta certainly has no discernable etymology. Walde (1954) rejects connections to Greek and Celtic words but proposes one to a Turkic word sagīt, apparently meaning “weapon.”37 If this etymology is valid, here is our smoking gun, for it could have plausibly been borrowed from an Anatolian language into both Latin and Turkish, but I have not thus far found anything outside of Walde’s lexicon to substantiate this claim. Nonetheless, *sekata as the ancestor of both ἑκατηβόλος and Ἑκάτη makes semantic sense, as both Artemis and Apollo are associated with archery. However, absent any archaeological documentation of the word, Brown’s hypothesis remains unconfirmed. The widespread and enthusiastic adoption of Hekate by the Greeks shows, at least, that even local gods could become transnational and widely dispersed through syncretization.


Conclusion: Homer the Dramatic Archivist

Homer’s medium of traditional oral poetry preserves theonymic epithets, whether Greek or non-Greek, that were associated with multinational cults as far back as the Bronze Age. The cultural memory of the Iliad thus provides a snapshot into the international religious world of Mycenaean Greece and Luwian Anatolia. Though the origins and meanings of words like Φοῖβος had become occluded by Homer’s time, the poet shows enough knowledge of the Anatolian etymologies of words like Σμινθεύς and Λυκηγενής to use them in contexts wherein Apollo’s close relationship with Troy and Anatolia is emphasized. As Bachvarova (2022) notes, Homer’s audience might even “have been aware that Zeus, Athena, and Apollo had Anatolian analogues, and would have noticed—perhaps even expected—allusions to their multiple, even divided, loyalties.”38 The crafty poet, therefore, uses these foreign and archaic epithets to signal the “in-group” status of gods like Apollo to the Trojans. He is thus able to build dramatic tension via these conflicted loyalties of the gods, showing that the ultimate victory of the Greeks is not the unanimous divine will and thereby increasing his audience’s excitement and anxiety for the epic’s resolution.


Garrett Lincoln Ashlock is a recent graduate of the University of Michigan who majored in Middle Eastern Studies and minored in Ancient Greek and Medieval and Early Modern Studies. He will be attending the Master of Arts program at the University of Chicago Divinity School in Autumn 2023.



  1. For his argument and the following examples, see Milman Parry, The Making of Homeric Verse, ed. Adam Parry (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971), 10-14.
  2. Parry, Homeric Verse, 22-23.
  3.  See Robert Beekes, “The Origin of Apollo,” Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions 3, no. 1 (2003): 1-21; Edwin L. Brown, “In Search of Anatolian Apollo,” Hesperia Supplements 33 (2004): 243–57; and Ian Rutherford, Hittite Texts and Greek Religion: Contact, Interaction, and Comparison (Oxford: OUP, 2020), 109-13.
  4. Mary R. Bachvarova, “Regional Loyalties in the Iliad: The Cases of Zeus, Apollo, and Athena,” in Naming and Mapping the Gods in the Ancient Mediterranean: Spaces, Mobilities, Imaginaries, ed. by Corinne Bonnet et al., 103-122 (Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter, 2022), 105. See also “Ἀθήνη” in Etymological Dictionary of Greek, edited by Robert S. P. Beekes, <https://dictionaries-brillonline-com/search#dictionary=greek&id= gr0189> (October 2010).
  5. Bachvarova, “Regional Loyalties,” 113.
  6. See, respectively, Rutherford, Hittite Texts and Greek Religion, 113; Beekes, “The Origin of Apollo”; Brown, “Anatolian Apollo,” 254; Bachvarova, “Regional Loyalties,” 108; Walter Burkert, Greek Religion, trans. Walter Burkert (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1985 [1977]), 145.
  7. “Φοῖβος,” Etymological Dictionary of Greek, <https://dictionaries-brillonline-com./search#dictionary=greek&id=gr7129>.
  8. Cf. Burkert, Greek Religion, 149.
  9. “Ἀργός 1,” Etymological Dictionary of Greek, <https://dictionaries-brillonline-com/search#dictionary=greek&id=gr0704>.
  10. “φοῖβος, Φοῖβος,” in Pierre Chantraine, Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque: Histoire des mots, ed. Jean Taillardat, Olivier Masson, and Jean-Louis Perpillou, 2nd ed. (Paris, France: Klincksieck, 2009), 1172-73.
  11. Cf. Michael Meier-Brügger, Indo-European Linguistics (Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter, 2003), 97; 134-35.
  12. See Meier-Brügger, Indo-European Linguistics, 134-35.
  13. Cf. Iliad I.37-39.
  14. Σ ad Il.1.39. Cf. Christopher A. Faraone, Hexametrical Genres from Homer to Theocritus (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2021), 57; and Alaya Palamidis, “Des souris et des hommes,” Kernos 32 (2019), 191f.
  15. Aristarchus apud Ap. Soph., s.v. Σμινθεῦ. Cf. Mary R. Bachvarova, From Hittite to Homer: The Anatolian Background of Ancient Greek Epic (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 450, n. 125.
  16. See, respectively, TH Fq 177.2; Gp 164; and Av 106.3.
  17. “Regional Loyalties,” 113 and From Hittite to Homer, 231.
  18. Palamidis, “Des souris et des hommes,” 200-13. See “Μίνθη,” Etymological Dictionary of Greek, <>.
  19. “Regional Loyalties,” 113.
  20. Hexametrical Genres, 51-57ff.
  21. “Des souris et des hommes,” 210.
  22. See Aristonicus ad 4.101a. Cf. Bachvarova, “Regional Loyalties,” 115; Christos Tsagalis, From Listeners to Viewers: Space in the Iliad, Hellenic Studies Series 53 (Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies, 2012), 403f; Beekes, “The Origin of Apollo,” 15.
  23. Trevor R. Bryce, “History,” in The Luwians, Handbook of Oriental Studies Series 68, ed. by H. Craig Melchert (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2003), 34.
  24. Cf. Beekes, “The Origin of Apollo,” 16.
  25. Tsagalis, Space in the Iliad, 403-04.
  26. Beekes, “The Origin of Apollo,” 14.
  27. Emmanuel Laroche, “L’inscription lycienne,”  Fouilles de Xanthos 6 (1979), 61-62.
  28. Brown, “In Search of Anatolian Apollo,” 245f.
  29. Cf. Iliad V.444 and XVI.711.
  30. “ἑκατηβόλος,” in Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos: Band 2, Β–Λ, vol. 2, edited by Bruno Snell (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1991), 500.
  31. See “ἑκηβόλος,” Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos: Band 2, 504; “ἑκηβόλος,” Etymological Dictionary of Greek, <https://dictionaries-brillonline-com/search#dictionary=greek&id=gr2160>; “ἑκηβόλος,” Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque, 314.
  32. Cf. “ἑκατηβόλος,” Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos: Band 2, 500; “ἑκατηβόλος,” Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque, 312. Snell says that there is “no trace” of a digamma, referencing Iliad XVII.333: « ὣς ἔφατ᾽, Αἰνείας δ᾽ ἑκατηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα ». Chantraine argues that it does, based on V.444. However, he overlooks the possibility, raised by Brown (2004) that the word originally started with a sigma, whence its uneven treatment; see below.
  33. Cf. “Ἑκάτη,” Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque, 313.
  34. “Ἑκάτη,” Etymological Dictionary of Greek, <https://dictionaries-brillonline-com/search#dictionary=greek&id =gr2153>.
  35. Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Der Glaube Der Hellenen, vol. 1 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1955), 319-20.
  36. Brown, “In Search of Anatolian Apollo,” 249.
  37. “sagitta,” in Alois Walde, Lateinisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch, vol. 2: M-Z (Heidelberg: Carl Winter–Universitätsverlag, 1954), 464.
  38. Bachvarova, “Regional Loyalties,” 109.



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