POEMS

Equallyby night always,And by day, having the sun, the goodLead a life without labor, not disturbing the earthWith violent hands, nor the sea water,For a scanty living; but honoredBy the gods, who take pleasure in fidelity to oaths,They spend a tearless existence;While the others suffer unsightly pain.But as many as endured threefoldProbation, keeping the mind from allInjustice, going the way of Zeus to Kronos' tower,Where the ocean breezes blow aroundThe island of the blessed; and flowers of gold shine,Some on the land from dazzling trees,And the water nourishes others;With garlands of these they crown their hands and hair,According to the just decrees of Rhadamanthus,Whom Father Kronos, the husband of Rhea,Having the highest throne of all, has ready by himself as his assistant judge.Peleus and Kadmus are regarded among these;And his mother brought Achilles, when she hadPersuaded the heart of Zeus with prayers,Who overthrew Hector, Troy'sUnconquered, unshaken column, and gave CycnusTo death, and Morning's Æthiop son.

Equallyby night always,

And by day, having the sun, the good

Lead a life without labor, not disturbing the earth

With violent hands, nor the sea water,

For a scanty living; but honored

By the gods, who take pleasure in fidelity to oaths,

They spend a tearless existence;

While the others suffer unsightly pain.

But as many as endured threefold

Probation, keeping the mind from all

Injustice, going the way of Zeus to Kronos' tower,

Where the ocean breezes blow around

The island of the blessed; and flowers of gold shine,

Some on the land from dazzling trees,

And the water nourishes others;

With garlands of these they crown their hands and hair,

According to the just decrees of Rhadamanthus,

Whom Father Kronos, the husband of Rhea,

Having the highest throne of all, has ready by himself as his assistant judge.

Peleus and Kadmus are regarded among these;

And his mother brought Achilles, when she had

Persuaded the heart of Zeus with prayers,

Who overthrew Hector, Troy's

Unconquered, unshaken column, and gave Cycnus

To death, and Morning's Æthiop son.

Olympia v, 34-39

Always around virtues labor and expense strive toward a workCovered with danger; but those succeeding seem to be wise even to the citizens.

Always around virtues labor and expense strive toward a work

Covered with danger; but those succeeding seem to be wise even to the citizens.

Olympia vi, 14-17

Dangerless virtues,Neither among men, nor in hollow ships,Are honorable; but many remember if a fair deed is done.

Dangerless virtues,

Neither among men, nor in hollow ships,

Are honorable; but many remember if a fair deed is done.

ORIGIN OF RHODES

Olympia vii, 100-129

Ancient sayings of men relate,That when Zeus and the Immortals divided earth,Rhodes was not yet apparent in the deep sea;But in salt depths the island was hid.And, Helios being absent, no one claimed for him his lot;So they left him without any region for his share,The pure god. And Zeus was about to make a second drawing of lotsFor him warned. But he did not permit him;For he said that within the white sea he had seen a certain land springing up from the bottom,Capable of feeding many men, and suitable for flocks.And straightway he commanded golden-filleted LachesisTo stretch forth her hands, and not contradictThe great oath of the gods, but with the son of KronosAssent that, to the bright air being sent by his nod,It should hereafter be his prize. And his words were fully performed,Meeting with truth. The island sprang from the waterySea; and the genial Father of penetrating beams,Ruler of fire-breathing horses, has it.

Ancient sayings of men relate,

That when Zeus and the Immortals divided earth,

Rhodes was not yet apparent in the deep sea;

But in salt depths the island was hid.

And, Helios being absent, no one claimed for him his lot;

So they left him without any region for his share,

The pure god. And Zeus was about to make a second drawing of lots

For him warned. But he did not permit him;

For he said that within the white sea he had seen a certain land springing up from the bottom,

Capable of feeding many men, and suitable for flocks.

And straightway he commanded golden-filleted Lachesis

To stretch forth her hands, and not contradict

The great oath of the gods, but with the son of Kronos

Assent that, to the bright air being sent by his nod,

It should hereafter be his prize. And his words were fully performed,

Meeting with truth. The island sprang from the watery

Sea; and the genial Father of penetrating beams,

Ruler of fire-breathing horses, has it.

Olympia viii, 95, 96

A man doing fit thingsForgets Hades.

A man doing fit things

Forgets Hades.

HERCULES NAMES THE HILL OF KRONOS

Olympia x, 59-68

He named the Hill of Kronos, for before nameless,While Œnomaus ruled, it was moistened with much snow;And at this first rite the Fates stood by,And Time, who alone provesUnchanging truth.

He named the Hill of Kronos, for before nameless,

While Œnomaus ruled, it was moistened with much snow;

And at this first rite the Fates stood by,

And Time, who alone proves

Unchanging truth.

OLYMPIA AT EVENING

Olympia x, 85-92

With the javelin Phrastor struck the mark;And Eniceus cast the stone afar,Whirling his hand, above them all,And with applause it rushedThrough a great tumult;And the lovely evening lightOf the fair-faced moon shone on the scene.

With the javelin Phrastor struck the mark;

And Eniceus cast the stone afar,

Whirling his hand, above them all,

And with applause it rushed

Through a great tumult;

And the lovely evening light

Of the fair-faced moon shone on the scene.

FAME

Olympia x, 109-117

When, having done fair things, O Agesidamus,Without the reward of song, a man may comeTo Hades' rest, vainly aspiringHe obtains with toil some short delight.But the sweet-voiced lyreAnd the sweet flute bestow some favor;For Zeus' Pierian daughtersHave wide fame.

When, having done fair things, O Agesidamus,

Without the reward of song, a man may come

To Hades' rest, vainly aspiring

He obtains with toil some short delight.

But the sweet-voiced lyre

And the sweet flute bestow some favor;

For Zeus' Pierian daughters

Have wide fame.

TO ASOPICHUS OF ORCHOMENOS, ON HIS VICTORY IN THE STADIC COURSE

Olympia xiv

O ye, who inhabit for your lot the seat of the CephisianStreams, yielding fair steeds, renowned Graces,Ruling bright Orchomenos,Protectors of the ancient race of Minyæ,Hear, when I pray.For with you are all pleasantAnd sweet things to mortals;If wise, if fair, if noble,Any man. For neither do the gods,Without the august Graces,Rule the dance,Nor feasts; but stewardsOf all works in heaven,Having placed their seatsBy golden-bowed Pythian Apollo,They reverence the eternal powerOf the Olympian Father.August Aglaia and song-lovingEuphrosyne, children of the mightiest god,Hear now, and Thalia loving song,Beholding this band, in favorable fortuneLightly dancing; for in LydianManner meditating,I come celebrating Asopichus,Since Minya by thy means is victor at the Olympic games.Now to Persephone'sBlack-walled house go, Echo,Bearing to his father the famous news;That seeing Cleodamus thou mayest say,That in renowned Pisa's valeHis son crowned his young hairWith plumes of illustrious contests.

O ye, who inhabit for your lot the seat of the Cephisian

Streams, yielding fair steeds, renowned Graces,

Ruling bright Orchomenos,

Protectors of the ancient race of Minyæ,

Hear, when I pray.

For with you are all pleasant

And sweet things to mortals;

If wise, if fair, if noble,

Any man. For neither do the gods,

Without the august Graces,

Rule the dance,

Nor feasts; but stewards

Of all works in heaven,

Having placed their seats

By golden-bowed Pythian Apollo,

They reverence the eternal power

Of the Olympian Father.

August Aglaia and song-loving

Euphrosyne, children of the mightiest god,

Hear now, and Thalia loving song,

Beholding this band, in favorable fortune

Lightly dancing; for in Lydian

Manner meditating,

I come celebrating Asopichus,

Since Minya by thy means is victor at the Olympic games.

Now to Persephone's

Black-walled house go, Echo,

Bearing to his father the famous news;

That seeing Cleodamus thou mayest say,

That in renowned Pisa's vale

His son crowned his young hair

With plumes of illustrious contests.

TO THE LYRE

Pythia i, 8-11

Thou extinguishest even the spear-like boltOf everlasting fire. And the eagle sleeps on the sceptre of Zeus,Drooping his swift wings on either side,The king of birds.

Thou extinguishest even the spear-like bolt

Of everlasting fire. And the eagle sleeps on the sceptre of Zeus,

Drooping his swift wings on either side,

The king of birds.

Pythia i, 25-28

Whatever things Zeus has not lovedAre terrified, hearingThe voice of the Pierians,On earth and the immeasurable sea.

Whatever things Zeus has not loved

Are terrified, hearing

The voice of the Pierians,

On earth and the immeasurable sea.

Pythia ii, 159-161

A plain-spoken man brings advantage to every government,—To a monarchy, and when theImpetuous crowd, and when the wise, rule a city.

A plain-spoken man brings advantage to every government,—

To a monarchy, and when the

Impetuous crowd, and when the wise, rule a city.

As a whole, the third Pythian Ode, to Hiero, on his victory in the single-horse race, is one of the most memorable. We extract first the account of

ÆSCULAPIUS

Pythia iii, 83-110

As many, therefore, as came sufferingFrom spontaneous ulcers, or woundedIn their limbs with glittering steel,Or with the far-cast stone,Or by the summer's heat o'ercome in body,Or by winter, relieving he saved fromVarious ills; some cherishingWith soothing strains,Others having drunk refreshing draughts, or applyingRemedies to the limbs, others by cutting off he made erect.But even wisdom is bound by gain,And gold appearing in the hand persuaded even him, with its bright reward,To bring a man from deathAlready overtaken. But the Kronian, smitingWith both hands, quickly took awayThe breath from his breasts;And the rushing thunderbolt hurled him to death.It is necessary for mortal mindsTo seek what is reasonable from the divinities,Knowing what is before the feet, of what destiny we are.Do not, my soul, aspire to the lifeOf the Immortals, but exhaust the practicable means.

As many, therefore, as came suffering

From spontaneous ulcers, or wounded

In their limbs with glittering steel,

Or with the far-cast stone,

Or by the summer's heat o'ercome in body,

Or by winter, relieving he saved from

Various ills; some cherishing

With soothing strains,

Others having drunk refreshing draughts, or applying

Remedies to the limbs, others by cutting off he made erect.

But even wisdom is bound by gain,

And gold appearing in the hand persuaded even him, with its bright reward,

To bring a man from death

Already overtaken. But the Kronian, smiting

With both hands, quickly took away

The breath from his breasts;

And the rushing thunderbolt hurled him to death.

It is necessary for mortal minds

To seek what is reasonable from the divinities,

Knowing what is before the feet, of what destiny we are.

Do not, my soul, aspire to the life

Of the Immortals, but exhaust the practicable means.

In the conclusion of the ode, the poet reminds the victor, Hiero, that adversity alternates with prosperity in the life of man, as in the instance of

PELEUS AND CADMUS

Pythia iii, 145-205

The Immortals distribute to menWith one good twoEvils. The foolish, therefore,Are not able to bear these with grace,But the wise, turning the fair outside.But thee the lot of good fortune follows,For surely great DestinyLooks down upon a king ruling the people,If on any man. But a secure lifeWas not to Peleus, son of Æacus,Nor to godlike Cadmus,Who yet are said to have hadThe greatest happinessOf mortals, and who heardThe song of the golden-filleted Muses,On the mountain, and in seven-gated Thebes,When the one married fair-eyed Harmonia,And the other Thetis, the illustrious daughter of wise-counseling Nereus.And the gods feasted with both;And they saw the royal children of KronosOn golden seats, and receivedMarriage gifts; and having exchangedFormer toils for the favor of Zeus,They made erect the heart.But in course of timeHis three daughters robbed the oneOf some of his serenity by acuteSufferings; when Father Zeus, forsooth, cameTo the lovely couch of white-armed Thyone.And the other's child, whom only the immortalThetis bore in Phthia, losingHis life in war by arrows,Being consumed by fire excitedThe lamentation of the Danaans.But if any mortal has in hisMind the way of truth,It is necessary to make the bestOf what befalls from the blessed.For various are the blastsOf high-flying winds.The happiness of men stays not a long time,Though fast it follows rushing on.Humble in humble estate, lofty in lofty,I will be; and the attending dæmonI will always reverence in my mind,Serving according to my means.But if Heaven extend to me kind wealth,I have hope to find lofty fame hereafter.Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon—They are the fame of men—From resounding words which skillful artistsSung, we know.For virtue through renownedSong is lasting.But for few is it easy to obtain.

The Immortals distribute to menWith one good twoEvils. The foolish, therefore,Are not able to bear these with grace,But the wise, turning the fair outside.

The Immortals distribute to men

With one good two

Evils. The foolish, therefore,

Are not able to bear these with grace,

But the wise, turning the fair outside.

But thee the lot of good fortune follows,For surely great DestinyLooks down upon a king ruling the people,If on any man. But a secure lifeWas not to Peleus, son of Æacus,Nor to godlike Cadmus,Who yet are said to have hadThe greatest happinessOf mortals, and who heardThe song of the golden-filleted Muses,On the mountain, and in seven-gated Thebes,When the one married fair-eyed Harmonia,And the other Thetis, the illustrious daughter of wise-counseling Nereus.And the gods feasted with both;And they saw the royal children of KronosOn golden seats, and receivedMarriage gifts; and having exchangedFormer toils for the favor of Zeus,They made erect the heart.But in course of timeHis three daughters robbed the oneOf some of his serenity by acuteSufferings; when Father Zeus, forsooth, cameTo the lovely couch of white-armed Thyone.And the other's child, whom only the immortalThetis bore in Phthia, losingHis life in war by arrows,Being consumed by fire excitedThe lamentation of the Danaans.But if any mortal has in hisMind the way of truth,It is necessary to make the bestOf what befalls from the blessed.For various are the blastsOf high-flying winds.The happiness of men stays not a long time,Though fast it follows rushing on.

But thee the lot of good fortune follows,

For surely great Destiny

Looks down upon a king ruling the people,

If on any man. But a secure life

Was not to Peleus, son of Æacus,

Nor to godlike Cadmus,

Who yet are said to have had

The greatest happiness

Of mortals, and who heard

The song of the golden-filleted Muses,

On the mountain, and in seven-gated Thebes,

When the one married fair-eyed Harmonia,

And the other Thetis, the illustrious daughter of wise-counseling Nereus.

And the gods feasted with both;

And they saw the royal children of Kronos

On golden seats, and received

Marriage gifts; and having exchanged

Former toils for the favor of Zeus,

They made erect the heart.

But in course of time

His three daughters robbed the one

Of some of his serenity by acute

Sufferings; when Father Zeus, forsooth, came

To the lovely couch of white-armed Thyone.

And the other's child, whom only the immortal

Thetis bore in Phthia, losing

His life in war by arrows,

Being consumed by fire excited

The lamentation of the Danaans.

But if any mortal has in his

Mind the way of truth,

It is necessary to make the best

Of what befalls from the blessed.

For various are the blasts

Of high-flying winds.

The happiness of men stays not a long time,

Though fast it follows rushing on.

Humble in humble estate, lofty in lofty,I will be; and the attending dæmonI will always reverence in my mind,Serving according to my means.But if Heaven extend to me kind wealth,I have hope to find lofty fame hereafter.Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon—They are the fame of men—From resounding words which skillful artistsSung, we know.For virtue through renownedSong is lasting.But for few is it easy to obtain.

Humble in humble estate, lofty in lofty,

I will be; and the attending dæmon

I will always reverence in my mind,

Serving according to my means.

But if Heaven extend to me kind wealth,

I have hope to find lofty fame hereafter.

Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon—

They are the fame of men—

From resounding words which skillful artists

Sung, we know.

For virtue through renowned

Song is lasting.

But for few is it easy to obtain.

APOLLO

Pythia v, 87-90

He bestowed the lyre,And he gives the muse to whom he wishes,Bringing peaceful serenity to the breast.

He bestowed the lyre,

And he gives the muse to whom he wishes,

Bringing peaceful serenity to the breast.

MAN

Pythia viii, 136

The phantom of a shadow are men.

HYPSEUS' DAUGHTER CYRENE

Pythia ix, 31-44

He reared the white-armed child Cyrene,Who loved neither the alternating motion of the loom,Nor the superintendence of feasts,With the pleasures of companions;But, with javelins of steelAnd the sword contending,To slay wild beasts;Affording surely muchAnd tranquil peace to her father's herds;Spending little sleepUpon her eyelids,As her sweet bedfellow, creeping on at dawn.

He reared the white-armed child Cyrene,

Who loved neither the alternating motion of the loom,

Nor the superintendence of feasts,

With the pleasures of companions;

But, with javelins of steel

And the sword contending,

To slay wild beasts;

Affording surely much

And tranquil peace to her father's herds;

Spending little sleep

Upon her eyelids,

As her sweet bedfellow, creeping on at dawn.

THE HEIGHT OF GLORY

Pythia x, 33-48

Fortunate and celebratedBy the wise is that manWho, conquering by his hands or virtueOf his feet, takes the highest prizesThrough daring and strength,And living still sees his youthful sonDeservedly obtaining Pythian crowns.The brazen heaven is not yet accessible to him.But whatever glory weOf mortal race may reach,He goes beyond, even to the boundariesOf navigation. But neither in ships, nor going on foot,Couldst thou find the wonderful way to the contests of the Hyperboreans.

Fortunate and celebrated

By the wise is that man

Who, conquering by his hands or virtue

Of his feet, takes the highest prizes

Through daring and strength,

And living still sees his youthful son

Deservedly obtaining Pythian crowns.

The brazen heaven is not yet accessible to him.

But whatever glory we

Of mortal race may reach,

He goes beyond, even to the boundaries

Of navigation. But neither in ships, nor going on foot,

Couldst thou find the wonderful way to the contests of the Hyperboreans.

TO ARISTOCLIDES, VICTOR AT THE NEMEAN GAMES

Nemea iii, 32-37

If, being beautiful,And doing things like to his form,The child of AristophanesWent to the height of manliness, no furtherIs it easy to go over the untraveled sea,Beyond the Pillars of Hercules.

If, being beautiful,

And doing things like to his form,

The child of Aristophanes

Went to the height of manliness, no further

Is it easy to go over the untraveled sea,

Beyond the Pillars of Hercules.

THE YOUTH OF ACHILLES

Nemea iii, 69-90

One with native virtuesGreatly prevails; but he whoPossesses acquired talents, an obscure man,Aspiring to various things, never with fearlessFoot advances, but triesA myriad virtues with inefficient mind.Yellow-haired Achilles, meanwhile, remaining in the house of Philyra,Being a boy playedGreat deeds; often brandishingIron-pointed javelins in his hands,Swift as the winds, in fight he wrought death to savage lions;And he slew boars, and brought their bodiesPalpitating to Kronian Centaurus,As soon as six years old. And all the whileArtemis and bold Athene admired him,Slaying stags without dogs or treacherous nets;For he conquered them on foot.

One with native virtues

Greatly prevails; but he who

Possesses acquired talents, an obscure man,

Aspiring to various things, never with fearless

Foot advances, but tries

A myriad virtues with inefficient mind.

Yellow-haired Achilles, meanwhile, remaining in the house of Philyra,

Being a boy played

Great deeds; often brandishing

Iron-pointed javelins in his hands,

Swift as the winds, in fight he wrought death to savage lions;

And he slew boars, and brought their bodies

Palpitating to Kronian Centaurus,

As soon as six years old. And all the while

Artemis and bold Athene admired him,

Slaying stags without dogs or treacherous nets;

For he conquered them on foot.

Nemea iv, 66-70

Whatever virtues sovereign destiny has given me,I well know that time, creeping on,Will fulfill what was fated.

Whatever virtues sovereign destiny has given me,

I well know that time, creeping on,

Will fulfill what was fated.

Nemea v, 1-8

The kindred of Pytheas, a victor in the Nemean games, had wished to procure an ode from Pindar for less than three drachmæ, asserting that they could purchase a statue for that sum. In the following lines he nobly reproves their meanness, and asserts the value of his labors, which, unlike those of the statuary, will bear the fame of the hero to the ends of the earth.

No image-maker am I, who being still make statuesStanding on the same base. But on everyMerchant-ship and in every boat, sweet song,Go from Ægina to announce that Lampo's son,Mighty Pytheas,Has conquered the pancratian crown at the Nemean games.

No image-maker am I, who being still make statues

Standing on the same base. But on every

Merchant-ship and in every boat, sweet song,

Go from Ægina to announce that Lampo's son,

Mighty Pytheas,

Has conquered the pancratian crown at the Nemean games.

THE DIVINE IN MAN

Nemea vi, 1-13

One the race of men and of gods;And from one motherWe all breathe.But quite different powerDivides us, so that the one is nothing,But the brazen heaven remains alwaysA secure abode. Yet in some respect we are related,Either in mighty mind or form, to the Immortals;Although not knowingTo what resting-place,By day or night, Fate has written that we shall run.

One the race of men and of gods;

And from one mother

We all breathe.

But quite different power

Divides us, so that the one is nothing,

But the brazen heaven remains always

A secure abode. Yet in some respect we are related,

Either in mighty mind or form, to the Immortals;

Although not knowing

To what resting-place,

By day or night, Fate has written that we shall run.

THE TREATMENT OF AJAX

Nemea viii, 44-51

In secret votes the Danaans aided Ulysses;And Ajax, deprived of golden arms, struggled with death.Surely, wounds of another kind they wroughtIn the warm flesh of their foes, waging warWith the man-defending spear.

In secret votes the Danaans aided Ulysses;

And Ajax, deprived of golden arms, struggled with death.

Surely, wounds of another kind they wrought

In the warm flesh of their foes, waging war

With the man-defending spear.

THE VALUE OF FRIENDS

Nemea viii, 68-75

Virtue increases, being sustained by wise men and just,As when a tree shoots up with gentle dews into the liquid air.There are various uses of friendly men;But chiefest in labors; and even pleasureRequires to place some pledge before the eyes.

Virtue increases, being sustained by wise men and just,

As when a tree shoots up with gentle dews into the liquid air.

There are various uses of friendly men;

But chiefest in labors; and even pleasure

Requires to place some pledge before the eyes.

DEATH OF AMPHIARAUS

Nemea ix, 41-66

Once they led to seven-gated Thebes an army of men, not accordingTo the lucky flight of birds. Nor did the Kronian,Brandishing his lightning, impel to marchFrom home insane, but to abstain from the way.But to apparent destructionThe host made haste to go, with brazen armsAnd horse equipments, and on the banksOf Ismenus, defending sweet return,Their white-flowered bodies fattened fire.For seven pyres devoured young-limbedMen. But to AmphiarausZeus rent the deep-bosomed earthWith his mighty thunderbolt,And buried him with his horses,Ere, being struck in the backBy the spear of Periclymenus, his warlikeSpirit was disgraced.For in dæmonic fearsFlee even the sons of gods.

Once they led to seven-gated Thebes an army of men, not according

To the lucky flight of birds. Nor did the Kronian,

Brandishing his lightning, impel to march

From home insane, but to abstain from the way.

But to apparent destruction

The host made haste to go, with brazen arms

And horse equipments, and on the banks

Of Ismenus, defending sweet return,

Their white-flowered bodies fattened fire.

For seven pyres devoured young-limbed

Men. But to Amphiaraus

Zeus rent the deep-bosomed earth

With his mighty thunderbolt,

And buried him with his horses,

Ere, being struck in the back

By the spear of Periclymenus, his warlike

Spirit was disgraced.

For in dæmonic fears

Flee even the sons of gods.

CASTOR AND POLLUX

Nemea x, 153-171

Pollux, son of Zeus, shared his immortality with his brother Castor, son of Tyndarus, and while one was in heaven, the other remained in the infernal regions, and they alternately lived and died every day, or, as some say, every six months. While Castor lies mortally wounded by Idas, Pollux prays to Zeus, either to restore his brother to life, or permit him to die with him, to which the god answers,—

Nevertheless, I give theeThy choice of these: if, indeed, fleeingDeath and odious age,You wish to dwell on Olympus,With Athene and black-speared Mars,Thou hast this lot;But if thou thinkest to fightFor thy brother, and shareAll things with him,Half the time thou mayest breathe, being beneath the earth,And half in the golden halls of heaven.The god thus having spoken, he did notEntertain a double wish in his mind.And he released first the eye, and then the voice,Of brazen-mitred Castor.

Nevertheless, I give thee

Thy choice of these: if, indeed, fleeing

Death and odious age,

You wish to dwell on Olympus,

With Athene and black-speared Mars,

Thou hast this lot;

But if thou thinkest to fight

For thy brother, and share

All things with him,

Half the time thou mayest breathe, being beneath the earth,

And half in the golden halls of heaven.

The god thus having spoken, he did not

Entertain a double wish in his mind.

And he released first the eye, and then the voice,

Of brazen-mitred Castor.

TOIL

Isthmia i, 65-71

One reward of labors is sweet to one man, one to another,—To the shepherd, and the plower, and the bird-catcher,And whom the sea nourishes.But every one is tasked to ward offGrievous famine from the stomach.

One reward of labors is sweet to one man, one to another,—

To the shepherd, and the plower, and the bird-catcher,

And whom the sea nourishes.

But every one is tasked to ward off

Grievous famine from the stomach.

THE VENALITY OF THE MUSE

Isthmia ii, 9-18

Then the Muse was notFond of gain, nor a laboring woman;Nor were the sweet-sounding,Soothing strainsOf Terpsichore sold,With silvered front.But now she directs to observe the sayingOf the Argive, coming very near the truth,Who cried, "Money, money, man,"Being bereft of property and friends.

Then the Muse was not

Fond of gain, nor a laboring woman;

Nor were the sweet-sounding,

Soothing strains

Of Terpsichore sold,

With silvered front.

But now she directs to observe the saying

Of the Argive, coming very near the truth,

Who cried, "Money, money, man,"

Being bereft of property and friends.

HERCULES' PRAYER CONCERNING AJAX, SON OF TELAMON

Isthmia vi, 62-73

"If ever, O Father Zeus, thou hast heardMy supplication with willing mind,Now I beseech thee, with propheticPrayer, grant a bold son from EribœaTo this man, my fated guest;Rugged in bodyAs the hide of this wild beastWhich now surrounds me, which, first of allMy contests, I slew once in Nemea; and let his mind agree."To him thus having spoken, Heaven sentA great eagle, king of birds,And sweet joy thrilled him inwardly.

"If ever, O Father Zeus, thou hast heard

My supplication with willing mind,

Now I beseech thee, with prophetic

Prayer, grant a bold son from Eribœa

To this man, my fated guest;

Rugged in body

As the hide of this wild beast

Which now surrounds me, which, first of all

My contests, I slew once in Nemea; and let his mind agree."

To him thus having spoken, Heaven sent

A great eagle, king of birds,

And sweet joy thrilled him inwardly.

THE FREEDOM OF GREECE

First at ArtemisiumThe children of the Athenians laid the shiningFoundation of freedom,And at Salamis and Mycale,And in Platæa, making it firmAs adamant.

First at Artemisium

The children of the Athenians laid the shining

Foundation of freedom,

And at Salamis and Mycale,

And in Platæa, making it firm

As adamant.

FROM STRABO[7]

Apollo

Having risen he wentOver land and sea,And stood over the vast summits of mountains,And threaded the recesses, penetrating to the foundations of the groves.

Having risen he went

Over land and sea,

And stood over the vast summits of mountains,

And threaded the recesses, penetrating to the foundations of the groves.

FROM PLUTARCH

Heaven being willing, even on an osier thou mayest sail.[Thus rhymed by the old translator of Plutarch:"Were it the will of heaven, an osier boughWere vessel safe enough the seas to plough."]

Heaven being willing, even on an osier thou mayest sail.

[Thus rhymed by the old translator of Plutarch:

"Were it the will of heaven, an osier bough

Were vessel safe enough the seas to plough."]

FROM SEXTUS EMPIRICUS

Honors and crowns of the tempest-footedHorses delight one;Others live in golden chambers;And some even are pleased traversing securelyThe swelling of the sea in a swift ship.

Honors and crowns of the tempest-footed

Horses delight one;

Others live in golden chambers;

And some even are pleased traversing securely

The swelling of the sea in a swift ship.

FROM STOBÆUS

This I will say to thee:The lot of fair and pleasant thingsIt behooves to show in public to all the people;But if any adverse calamity sent from heaven befallMen, this it becomes to bury in darkness.

This I will say to thee:

The lot of fair and pleasant things

It behooves to show in public to all the people;

But if any adverse calamity sent from heaven befall

Men, this it becomes to bury in darkness.

Pindar said of the physiologists, that they "plucked the unripe fruit of wisdom."

Pindar said that "hopes were the dreams of those awake."

FROM CLEMENS OF ALEXANDRIA

To Heaven it is possible from blackNight to make arise unspotted light,And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscureThe pure splendor of day.First, indeed, the Fates brought the wise-counselingUranian Themis, with golden horses,By the fountains of Ocean to the awful ascentOf Olympus, along the shining way,To be the first spouse of Zeus the Deliverer.And she bore the golden-filleted, fair-wristedHours, preservers of good things.Equally tremble before GodAnd a man dear to God.

To Heaven it is possible from blackNight to make arise unspotted light,And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscureThe pure splendor of day.

To Heaven it is possible from black

Night to make arise unspotted light,

And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscure

The pure splendor of day.

First, indeed, the Fates brought the wise-counselingUranian Themis, with golden horses,By the fountains of Ocean to the awful ascentOf Olympus, along the shining way,To be the first spouse of Zeus the Deliverer.And she bore the golden-filleted, fair-wristedHours, preservers of good things.

First, indeed, the Fates brought the wise-counseling

Uranian Themis, with golden horses,

By the fountains of Ocean to the awful ascent

Of Olympus, along the shining way,

To be the first spouse of Zeus the Deliverer.

And she bore the golden-filleted, fair-wristed

Hours, preservers of good things.

Equally tremble before GodAnd a man dear to God.

Equally tremble before God

And a man dear to God.

FROM ÆLIUS ARISTIDES

Pindar used such exaggerations [in praise of poetry] as to say that even the gods themselves, when at his marriage Zeus asked if they wanted anything, "asked him to make certain gods for them who should celebrate these great works and all his creation with speech and song."

O Nature!I do not aspireTo be the highest in thy quire,—To be a meteor in the sky,Or comet that may range on high;Only a zephyr that may blowAmong the reeds by the river low;Give me thy most privy placeWhere to run my airy race.In some withdrawn, unpublic meadLet me sigh upon a reed,Or in the woods, with leafy din,Whisper the still evening in:Some still work give me to do,—Only—be it near to you!For I'd rather be thy childAnd pupil, in the forest wild,Than be the king of men elsewhere,And most sovereign slave of care:To have one moment of thy dawn,Than share the city's year forlorn.

O Nature!I do not aspire

To be the highest in thy quire,—

To be a meteor in the sky,

Or comet that may range on high;

Only a zephyr that may blow

Among the reeds by the river low;

Give me thy most privy place

Where to run my airy race.

In some withdrawn, unpublic meadLet me sigh upon a reed,Or in the woods, with leafy din,Whisper the still evening in:Some still work give me to do,—Only—be it near to you!

In some withdrawn, unpublic mead

Let me sigh upon a reed,

Or in the woods, with leafy din,

Whisper the still evening in:

Some still work give me to do,—

Only—be it near to you!

For I'd rather be thy childAnd pupil, in the forest wild,Than be the king of men elsewhere,And most sovereign slave of care:To have one moment of thy dawn,Than share the city's year forlorn.

For I'd rather be thy child

And pupil, in the forest wild,

Than be the king of men elsewhere,

And most sovereign slave of care:

To have one moment of thy dawn,

Than share the city's year forlorn.

Whate'erwe leave to God, God does,And blesses us;The work we choose should be our own,God leaves alone.Ifwith light head erect I sing,Though all the Muses lend their force,From my poor love of anything,The verse is weak and shallow as its source.But if with bended neck I grope,Listening behind me for my wit,With faith superior to hope,More anxious to keep back than forward it,Making my soul accomplice thereUnto the flame my heart hath lit,Then will the verse forever wear,—Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ.Always the general show of thingsFloats in review before my mind,And such true love and reverence brings,That sometimes I forget that I am blind.But now there comes unsought, unseen,Some clear divine electuary,And I, who had but sensual been,Grow sensible, and as God is, am wary.I hearing get, who had but ears,And sight, who had but eyes before;I moments live, who lived but years,And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore.I hear beyond the range of sound,I see beyond the range of sight,New earths and skies and seas around,And in my day the sun doth pale his light.A clear and ancient harmonyPierces my soul through all its din,As through its utmost melody,—Farther behind than they, farther within.More swift its bolt than lightning is.Its voice than thunder is more loud,It doth expand my privaciesTo all, and leave me single in the crowd.It speaks with such authority,With so serene and lofty tone,That idle Time runs gadding by,And leaves me with Eternity alone.Then chiefly is my natal hour,And only then my prime of life;Of manhood's strength it is the flower,'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife.'T hath come in summer's broadest noon,By a gray wall or some chance place,Unseasoned time, insulted June,And vexed the day with its presuming face.Such fragrance round my couch it makes,More rich than are Arabian drugs,That my soul scents its life and wakesThe body up beneath its perfumed rugs.Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,The star that guides our mortal course,Which shows where life's true kernel's laid,Its wheat's fine flour, and its undying force.She with one breath attunes the spheres,And also my poor human heart,With one impulse propels the yearsAround, and gives my throbbing pulse its start.I will not doubt for evermore,Nor falter from a steadfast faith,For though the system be turned o'er,God takes not back the word which once he saith.I will, then, trust the love untoldWhich not my worth nor want has bought,Which wooed me young, and wooes me old,And to this evening hath me brought.My memory I'll educateTo know the one historic truth,Remembering to the latest dateThe only true and sole immortal youth.Be but thy inspiration given,No matter through what danger sought,I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven,And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought.Fame cannot tempt the bardWho's famous with his God,Nor laurel him rewardWho hath his Maker's nod.

Whate'erwe leave to God, God does,And blesses us;The work we choose should be our own,God leaves alone.

Whate'erwe leave to God, God does,

And blesses us;

The work we choose should be our own,

God leaves alone.

Ifwith light head erect I sing,Though all the Muses lend their force,From my poor love of anything,The verse is weak and shallow as its source.

Ifwith light head erect I sing,

Though all the Muses lend their force,

From my poor love of anything,

The verse is weak and shallow as its source.

But if with bended neck I grope,Listening behind me for my wit,With faith superior to hope,More anxious to keep back than forward it,

But if with bended neck I grope,

Listening behind me for my wit,

With faith superior to hope,

More anxious to keep back than forward it,

Making my soul accomplice thereUnto the flame my heart hath lit,Then will the verse forever wear,—Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ.

Making my soul accomplice there

Unto the flame my heart hath lit,

Then will the verse forever wear,—

Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ.

Always the general show of thingsFloats in review before my mind,And such true love and reverence brings,That sometimes I forget that I am blind.

Always the general show of things

Floats in review before my mind,

And such true love and reverence brings,

That sometimes I forget that I am blind.

But now there comes unsought, unseen,Some clear divine electuary,And I, who had but sensual been,Grow sensible, and as God is, am wary.

But now there comes unsought, unseen,

Some clear divine electuary,

And I, who had but sensual been,

Grow sensible, and as God is, am wary.

I hearing get, who had but ears,And sight, who had but eyes before;I moments live, who lived but years,And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore.

I hearing get, who had but ears,

And sight, who had but eyes before;

I moments live, who lived but years,

And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore.

I hear beyond the range of sound,I see beyond the range of sight,New earths and skies and seas around,And in my day the sun doth pale his light.

I hear beyond the range of sound,

I see beyond the range of sight,

New earths and skies and seas around,

And in my day the sun doth pale his light.

A clear and ancient harmonyPierces my soul through all its din,As through its utmost melody,—Farther behind than they, farther within.

A clear and ancient harmony

Pierces my soul through all its din,

As through its utmost melody,—

Farther behind than they, farther within.

More swift its bolt than lightning is.Its voice than thunder is more loud,It doth expand my privaciesTo all, and leave me single in the crowd.

More swift its bolt than lightning is.

Its voice than thunder is more loud,

It doth expand my privacies

To all, and leave me single in the crowd.

It speaks with such authority,With so serene and lofty tone,That idle Time runs gadding by,And leaves me with Eternity alone.

It speaks with such authority,

With so serene and lofty tone,

That idle Time runs gadding by,

And leaves me with Eternity alone.

Then chiefly is my natal hour,And only then my prime of life;Of manhood's strength it is the flower,'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife.

Then chiefly is my natal hour,

And only then my prime of life;

Of manhood's strength it is the flower,

'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife.

'T hath come in summer's broadest noon,By a gray wall or some chance place,Unseasoned time, insulted June,And vexed the day with its presuming face.

'T hath come in summer's broadest noon,

By a gray wall or some chance place,

Unseasoned time, insulted June,

And vexed the day with its presuming face.

Such fragrance round my couch it makes,More rich than are Arabian drugs,That my soul scents its life and wakesThe body up beneath its perfumed rugs.

Such fragrance round my couch it makes,

More rich than are Arabian drugs,

That my soul scents its life and wakes

The body up beneath its perfumed rugs.

Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,The star that guides our mortal course,Which shows where life's true kernel's laid,Its wheat's fine flour, and its undying force.

Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,

The star that guides our mortal course,

Which shows where life's true kernel's laid,

Its wheat's fine flour, and its undying force.

She with one breath attunes the spheres,And also my poor human heart,With one impulse propels the yearsAround, and gives my throbbing pulse its start.

She with one breath attunes the spheres,

And also my poor human heart,

With one impulse propels the years

Around, and gives my throbbing pulse its start.

I will not doubt for evermore,Nor falter from a steadfast faith,For though the system be turned o'er,God takes not back the word which once he saith.

I will not doubt for evermore,

Nor falter from a steadfast faith,

For though the system be turned o'er,

God takes not back the word which once he saith.

I will, then, trust the love untoldWhich not my worth nor want has bought,Which wooed me young, and wooes me old,And to this evening hath me brought.

I will, then, trust the love untold

Which not my worth nor want has bought,

Which wooed me young, and wooes me old,

And to this evening hath me brought.

My memory I'll educateTo know the one historic truth,Remembering to the latest dateThe only true and sole immortal youth.

My memory I'll educate

To know the one historic truth,

Remembering to the latest date

The only true and sole immortal youth.

Be but thy inspiration given,No matter through what danger sought,I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven,And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought.

Be but thy inspiration given,

No matter through what danger sought,

I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven,

And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought.

Fame cannot tempt the bardWho's famous with his God,Nor laurel him rewardWho hath his Maker's nod.

Fame cannot tempt the bard

Who's famous with his God,

Nor laurel him reward

Who hath his Maker's nod.

A FRAGMENT

Thegod of day his car rolls up the slopes,Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand;The lingering moon through western shadows gropes,While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land.Castles and cities by the sounding mainResound with all the busy din of life;The fisherman unfurls his sails again;And the recruited warrior bides the strife.The early breeze ruffles the poplar leaves;The curling waves reflect the unseen light;The slumbering sea with the day's impulse heaves,While o'er the western hill retires the drowsy night.The seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam,Far circling out over the frothy waves,—

Thegod of day his car rolls up the slopes,Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand;The lingering moon through western shadows gropes,While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land.

Thegod of day his car rolls up the slopes,

Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand;

The lingering moon through western shadows gropes,

While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land.

Castles and cities by the sounding mainResound with all the busy din of life;The fisherman unfurls his sails again;And the recruited warrior bides the strife.

Castles and cities by the sounding main

Resound with all the busy din of life;

The fisherman unfurls his sails again;

And the recruited warrior bides the strife.

The early breeze ruffles the poplar leaves;The curling waves reflect the unseen light;The slumbering sea with the day's impulse heaves,While o'er the western hill retires the drowsy night.

The early breeze ruffles the poplar leaves;

The curling waves reflect the unseen light;

The slumbering sea with the day's impulse heaves,

While o'er the western hill retires the drowsy night.

The seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam,Far circling out over the frothy waves,—

The seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam,

Far circling out over the frothy waves,—

Low in the eastern skyIs set thy glancing eye;And though its gracious lightNe'er riseth to my sight,Yet every star that climbsAbove the gnarlèd limbsOf yonder hill,Conveys thy gentle will.Believe I knew thy thought,And that the zephyrs broughtThy kindest wishes through,As mine they bear to you;That some attentive cloudDid pause amid the crowdOver my head,While gentle things were said.Believe the thrushes sung,And that the flower-bells rung,That herbs exhaled their scent,And beasts knew what was meant,The trees a welcome waved,And lakes their margins laved,When thy free mindTo my retreat did wind.It was a summer eve,The air did gently heaveWhile yet a low-hung cloudThy eastern skies did shroud;The lightning's silent gleam,Startling my drowsy dream,Seemed like the flashUnder thy dark eyelash.From yonder comes the sun,But soon his course is run,Rising to trivial dayAlong his dusty way;But thy noontide completesOnly auroral heats,Nor ever sets,To hasten vain regrets.Direct thy pensive eyeInto the western sky;And when the evening starDoes glimmer from afarUpon the mountain line,Accept it for a signThat I am near,And thinking of thee here.I'll be thy Mercury,Thou Cytherea to me,Distinguished by thy faceThe earth shall learn my place;As near beneath thy lightWill I outwear the night,With mingled rayLeading the westward way.Still will I strive to beAs if thou wert with me;Whatever path I take,It shall be for thy sake,Of gentle slope and wide,As thou wert by my side,Without a rootTo trip thy gentle foot.I'll walk with gentle pace,And choose the smoothest place,And careful dip the oar,And shun the winding shore,And gently steer my boatWhere water-lilies float,And cardinal-flowersStand in their sylvan bowers.

Low in the eastern skyIs set thy glancing eye;And though its gracious lightNe'er riseth to my sight,Yet every star that climbsAbove the gnarlèd limbsOf yonder hill,Conveys thy gentle will.

Low in the eastern sky

Is set thy glancing eye;

And though its gracious light

Ne'er riseth to my sight,

Yet every star that climbs

Above the gnarlèd limbs

Of yonder hill,

Conveys thy gentle will.

Believe I knew thy thought,And that the zephyrs broughtThy kindest wishes through,As mine they bear to you;That some attentive cloudDid pause amid the crowdOver my head,While gentle things were said.

Believe I knew thy thought,

And that the zephyrs brought

Thy kindest wishes through,

As mine they bear to you;

That some attentive cloud

Did pause amid the crowd

Over my head,

While gentle things were said.

Believe the thrushes sung,And that the flower-bells rung,That herbs exhaled their scent,And beasts knew what was meant,The trees a welcome waved,And lakes their margins laved,When thy free mindTo my retreat did wind.

Believe the thrushes sung,

And that the flower-bells rung,

That herbs exhaled their scent,

And beasts knew what was meant,

The trees a welcome waved,

And lakes their margins laved,

When thy free mind

To my retreat did wind.

It was a summer eve,The air did gently heaveWhile yet a low-hung cloudThy eastern skies did shroud;The lightning's silent gleam,Startling my drowsy dream,Seemed like the flashUnder thy dark eyelash.

It was a summer eve,

The air did gently heave

While yet a low-hung cloud

Thy eastern skies did shroud;

The lightning's silent gleam,

Startling my drowsy dream,

Seemed like the flash

Under thy dark eyelash.

From yonder comes the sun,But soon his course is run,Rising to trivial dayAlong his dusty way;But thy noontide completesOnly auroral heats,Nor ever sets,To hasten vain regrets.

From yonder comes the sun,

But soon his course is run,

Rising to trivial day

Along his dusty way;

But thy noontide completes

Only auroral heats,

Nor ever sets,

To hasten vain regrets.

Direct thy pensive eyeInto the western sky;And when the evening starDoes glimmer from afarUpon the mountain line,Accept it for a signThat I am near,And thinking of thee here.

Direct thy pensive eye

Into the western sky;

And when the evening star

Does glimmer from afar

Upon the mountain line,

Accept it for a sign

That I am near,

And thinking of thee here.

I'll be thy Mercury,Thou Cytherea to me,Distinguished by thy faceThe earth shall learn my place;As near beneath thy lightWill I outwear the night,With mingled rayLeading the westward way.

I'll be thy Mercury,

Thou Cytherea to me,

Distinguished by thy face

The earth shall learn my place;

As near beneath thy light

Will I outwear the night,

With mingled ray

Leading the westward way.

Still will I strive to beAs if thou wert with me;Whatever path I take,It shall be for thy sake,Of gentle slope and wide,As thou wert by my side,Without a rootTo trip thy gentle foot.

Still will I strive to be

As if thou wert with me;

Whatever path I take,

It shall be for thy sake,

Of gentle slope and wide,

As thou wert by my side,

Without a root

To trip thy gentle foot.

I'll walk with gentle pace,And choose the smoothest place,And careful dip the oar,And shun the winding shore,And gently steer my boatWhere water-lilies float,And cardinal-flowersStand in their sylvan bowers.

I'll walk with gentle pace,

And choose the smoothest place,

And careful dip the oar,

And shun the winding shore,

And gently steer my boat

Where water-lilies float,

And cardinal-flowers

Stand in their sylvan bowers.

Brother, where dost thou dwell?What sun shines for thee now?Dost thou indeed fare well,As we wished thee here below?What season didst thou find?'Twas winter here.Are not the Fates more kindThan they appear?Is thy brow clear againAs in thy youthful years?And was that ugly painThe summit of thy fears?Yet thou wast cheery still;They could not quench thy fire;Thou didst abide their will,And then retire.Where chiefly shall I lookTo feel thy presence near?Along the neighboring brookMay I thy voice still hear?Dost thou still haunt the brinkOf yonder river's tide?And may I ever thinkThat thou art by my side?What bird wilt thou employTo bring me word of thee?For it would give them joy—'T would give them liberty—To serve their former lordWith wing and minstrelsy.A sadder strain mixed with their song,They've slowlier built their nests;Since thou art goneTheir lively labor rests.Where is the finch, the thrush,I used to hear?Ah, they could well abideThe dying year.Now they no more return,I hear them not;They have remained to mourn,Or else forgot.

Brother, where dost thou dwell?What sun shines for thee now?Dost thou indeed fare well,As we wished thee here below?

Brother, where dost thou dwell?

What sun shines for thee now?

Dost thou indeed fare well,

As we wished thee here below?

What season didst thou find?'Twas winter here.Are not the Fates more kindThan they appear?

What season didst thou find?

'Twas winter here.

Are not the Fates more kind

Than they appear?

Is thy brow clear againAs in thy youthful years?And was that ugly painThe summit of thy fears?

Is thy brow clear again

As in thy youthful years?

And was that ugly pain

The summit of thy fears?

Yet thou wast cheery still;They could not quench thy fire;Thou didst abide their will,And then retire.

Yet thou wast cheery still;

They could not quench thy fire;

Thou didst abide their will,

And then retire.

Where chiefly shall I lookTo feel thy presence near?Along the neighboring brookMay I thy voice still hear?

Where chiefly shall I look

To feel thy presence near?

Along the neighboring brook

May I thy voice still hear?

Dost thou still haunt the brinkOf yonder river's tide?And may I ever thinkThat thou art by my side?

Dost thou still haunt the brink

Of yonder river's tide?

And may I ever think

That thou art by my side?

What bird wilt thou employTo bring me word of thee?For it would give them joy—'T would give them liberty—To serve their former lordWith wing and minstrelsy.

What bird wilt thou employ

To bring me word of thee?

For it would give them joy—

'T would give them liberty—

To serve their former lord

With wing and minstrelsy.

A sadder strain mixed with their song,They've slowlier built their nests;Since thou art goneTheir lively labor rests.

A sadder strain mixed with their song,

They've slowlier built their nests;

Since thou art gone

Their lively labor rests.

Where is the finch, the thrush,I used to hear?Ah, they could well abideThe dying year.

Where is the finch, the thrush,

I used to hear?

Ah, they could well abide

The dying year.

Now they no more return,I hear them not;They have remained to mourn,Or else forgot.

Now they no more return,

I hear them not;

They have remained to mourn,

Or else forgot.

Whenlife contracts into a vulgar span,And human nature tires to be a man,I thank the gods for Greece,That permanent realm of peace.For as the rising moon far in the nightCheckers the shade with her forerunning light,So in my darkest hour my senses seemTo catch from her Acropolis a gleam.Greece, who am I that should remember thee,Thy Marathon and thy Thermopylæ?Is my life vulgar, my fate mean,Which on such golden memories can lean?

Whenlife contracts into a vulgar span,

And human nature tires to be a man,

I thank the gods for Greece,

That permanent realm of peace.

For as the rising moon far in the night

Checkers the shade with her forerunning light,

So in my darkest hour my senses seem

To catch from her Acropolis a gleam.

Greece, who am I that should remember thee,Thy Marathon and thy Thermopylæ?Is my life vulgar, my fate mean,Which on such golden memories can lean?

Greece, who am I that should remember thee,

Thy Marathon and thy Thermopylæ?

Is my life vulgar, my fate mean,

Which on such golden memories can lean?

Onemore is goneOut of the busy throngThat tread these paths;The church-bell tolls,Its sad knell rollsTo many hearths.Flower-bells toll not,Their echoes roll notUpon my ear;There still, perchance,That gentle spirit hauntsA fragrant bier.Low lies the pall,Lowly the mourners allTheir passage grope;No sable hueMars the serene blueOf heaven's cope.In distant dellFaint sounds the funeral bell;A heavenly chime;Some poet thereWeaves the light-burthened airInto sweet rhyme.

Onemore is goneOut of the busy throngThat tread these paths;The church-bell tolls,Its sad knell rollsTo many hearths.

Onemore is gone

Out of the busy throng

That tread these paths;

The church-bell tolls,

Its sad knell rolls

To many hearths.

Flower-bells toll not,Their echoes roll notUpon my ear;There still, perchance,That gentle spirit hauntsA fragrant bier.

Flower-bells toll not,

Their echoes roll not

Upon my ear;

There still, perchance,

That gentle spirit haunts

A fragrant bier.

Low lies the pall,Lowly the mourners allTheir passage grope;No sable hueMars the serene blueOf heaven's cope.

Low lies the pall,

Lowly the mourners all

Their passage grope;

No sable hue

Mars the serene blue

Of heaven's cope.

In distant dellFaint sounds the funeral bell;A heavenly chime;Some poet thereWeaves the light-burthened airInto sweet rhyme.

In distant dell

Faint sounds the funeral bell;

A heavenly chime;

Some poet there

Weaves the light-burthened air

Into sweet rhyme.

Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide;Mortality below her orb is placed.Raleigh.

Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide;

Mortality below her orb is placed.

Raleigh.

Thefull-orbed moon with unchanged rayMounts up the eastern sky,Not doomed to these short nights for aye,But shining steadily.She does not wane, but my fortune,Which her rays do not bless;My wayward path declineth soon,But she shines not the less.And if she faintly glimmers here,And palèd is her light,Yet alway in her proper sphereShe's mistress of the night.

Thefull-orbed moon with unchanged rayMounts up the eastern sky,Not doomed to these short nights for aye,But shining steadily.

Thefull-orbed moon with unchanged ray

Mounts up the eastern sky,

Not doomed to these short nights for aye,

But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortune,Which her rays do not bless;My wayward path declineth soon,But she shines not the less.

She does not wane, but my fortune,

Which her rays do not bless;

My wayward path declineth soon,

But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here,And palèd is her light,Yet alway in her proper sphereShe's mistress of the night.

And if she faintly glimmers here,

And palèd is her light,

Yet alway in her proper sphere

She's mistress of the night.

ThankGod who seasons thus the year,And sometimes kindly slants his rays;For in his winter he's most nearAnd plainest seen upon the shortest days.Who gently tempers now his heats.And then his harsher cold, lest weShould surfeit on the summer's sweets,Or pine upon the winter's crudity.A sober mind will walk alone,Apart from nature, if need be,And only its own seasons own:For nature leaving its humanity.Sometimes a late autumnal thoughtHas crossed my mind in green July,And to its early freshness broughtLate ripened fruits, and an autumnal sky.The evening of the year draws on,The fields a later aspect wear;Since Summer's garishness is gone,Some grains of night tincture the noontide air.Behold! the shadows of the treesNow circle wider 'bout their stem,Like sentries that by slow degreesPerform their rounds, gently protecting them.And as the year doth decline,The sun allows a scantier light;Behind each needle of the pineThere lurks a small auxiliar to the night.I hear the cricket's slumbrous layAround, beneath me, and on high;It rocks the night, it soothes the day,And everywhere is Nature's lullaby.But most he chirps beneath the sod,When he has made his winter bed;His creak grown fainter but more broad,A film of autumn o'er the summer spread.Small birds, in fleets migrating by,Now beat across some meadow's bay,And as they tack and veer on high,With faint and hurried click beguile the way.Far in the woods, these golden days,Some leaf obeys its Maker's call;And through their hollow aisles it playsWith delicate touch the prelude of the Fall.Gently withdrawing from its stem,It lightly lays itself alongWhere the same hand hath pillowed them,Resigned to sleep upon the old year's throng.The loneliest birch is brown and sere,The farthest pool is strewn with leaves,Which float upon their watery bier,Where is no eye that sees, no heart that grieves.The jay screams through the chestnut wood;The crisped and yellow leaves aroundAre hue and texture of my mood,And these rough burs my heirlooms on the ground.The threadbare trees, so poor and thin,They are no wealthier than I;But with as brave a core withinThey rear their boughs to the October sky.Poor knights they are which bravely waitThe charge of Winter's cavalry,Keeping a simple Roman state,Discumbered of their Persian luxury.

ThankGod who seasons thus the year,And sometimes kindly slants his rays;For in his winter he's most nearAnd plainest seen upon the shortest days.

ThankGod who seasons thus the year,

And sometimes kindly slants his rays;

For in his winter he's most near

And plainest seen upon the shortest days.

Who gently tempers now his heats.And then his harsher cold, lest weShould surfeit on the summer's sweets,Or pine upon the winter's crudity.

Who gently tempers now his heats.

And then his harsher cold, lest we

Should surfeit on the summer's sweets,

Or pine upon the winter's crudity.

A sober mind will walk alone,Apart from nature, if need be,And only its own seasons own:For nature leaving its humanity.

A sober mind will walk alone,

Apart from nature, if need be,

And only its own seasons own:

For nature leaving its humanity.

Sometimes a late autumnal thoughtHas crossed my mind in green July,And to its early freshness broughtLate ripened fruits, and an autumnal sky.

Sometimes a late autumnal thought

Has crossed my mind in green July,

And to its early freshness brought

Late ripened fruits, and an autumnal sky.

The evening of the year draws on,The fields a later aspect wear;Since Summer's garishness is gone,Some grains of night tincture the noontide air.

The evening of the year draws on,

The fields a later aspect wear;

Since Summer's garishness is gone,

Some grains of night tincture the noontide air.

Behold! the shadows of the treesNow circle wider 'bout their stem,Like sentries that by slow degreesPerform their rounds, gently protecting them.

Behold! the shadows of the trees

Now circle wider 'bout their stem,

Like sentries that by slow degrees

Perform their rounds, gently protecting them.

And as the year doth decline,The sun allows a scantier light;Behind each needle of the pineThere lurks a small auxiliar to the night.

And as the year doth decline,

The sun allows a scantier light;

Behind each needle of the pine

There lurks a small auxiliar to the night.

I hear the cricket's slumbrous layAround, beneath me, and on high;It rocks the night, it soothes the day,And everywhere is Nature's lullaby.

I hear the cricket's slumbrous lay

Around, beneath me, and on high;

It rocks the night, it soothes the day,

And everywhere is Nature's lullaby.

But most he chirps beneath the sod,When he has made his winter bed;His creak grown fainter but more broad,A film of autumn o'er the summer spread.

But most he chirps beneath the sod,

When he has made his winter bed;

His creak grown fainter but more broad,

A film of autumn o'er the summer spread.

Small birds, in fleets migrating by,Now beat across some meadow's bay,And as they tack and veer on high,With faint and hurried click beguile the way.

Small birds, in fleets migrating by,

Now beat across some meadow's bay,

And as they tack and veer on high,

With faint and hurried click beguile the way.

Far in the woods, these golden days,Some leaf obeys its Maker's call;And through their hollow aisles it playsWith delicate touch the prelude of the Fall.

Far in the woods, these golden days,

Some leaf obeys its Maker's call;

And through their hollow aisles it plays

With delicate touch the prelude of the Fall.

Gently withdrawing from its stem,It lightly lays itself alongWhere the same hand hath pillowed them,Resigned to sleep upon the old year's throng.

Gently withdrawing from its stem,

It lightly lays itself along

Where the same hand hath pillowed them,

Resigned to sleep upon the old year's throng.

The loneliest birch is brown and sere,The farthest pool is strewn with leaves,Which float upon their watery bier,Where is no eye that sees, no heart that grieves.

The loneliest birch is brown and sere,

The farthest pool is strewn with leaves,

Which float upon their watery bier,

Where is no eye that sees, no heart that grieves.

The jay screams through the chestnut wood;The crisped and yellow leaves aroundAre hue and texture of my mood,And these rough burs my heirlooms on the ground.

The jay screams through the chestnut wood;

The crisped and yellow leaves around

Are hue and texture of my mood,

And these rough burs my heirlooms on the ground.

The threadbare trees, so poor and thin,They are no wealthier than I;But with as brave a core withinThey rear their boughs to the October sky.

The threadbare trees, so poor and thin,

They are no wealthier than I;

But with as brave a core within

They rear their boughs to the October sky.

Poor knights they are which bravely waitThe charge of Winter's cavalry,Keeping a simple Roman state,Discumbered of their Persian luxury.

Poor knights they are which bravely wait

The charge of Winter's cavalry,

Keeping a simple Roman state,

Discumbered of their Persian luxury.

Back to Index Next