ESSAYS IN CLASSICAL METRES.

Goddess, the anger sing of the Pelean Achilles,Fatal beginning of griefs unnumbered to the Achæans;Many valiant souls untimely it hurried to Hades,And the heroes left themselves of dogs to be eatenAnd of ravenous birds—till Zeus’s plan was accomplished—From the day when first contention arose to disseverAtrides the King and the godlike hero Achilles.What divinity thus incited them to contention?—Zeus and Leto’s son; who, in anger with Agamemnon,Sent a deadly disease on the host, destroying the people,On account of the wrong the King to his worshipper offered,Chryses, who had come to the hollow ships of Achaia,To recover his daughter, with gifts of costly redemption,Carrying in his hands the wreaths of the archer ApolloSet on a golden staff—beseeching all the Achæans,And the Atridæ in chief, the two in command of the nations:‘Ye, Atreus’ sons, and other well-greaved Achaïan heroes,May the gods, who live in Olympian houses, accord youCapture of Priam’s town and safe to return to Achaia,But liberate to me my child and take the redemption—Fearing Zeus’s son, the far-death-dealing Apollo.’Then the Achæans all with acclamation assented,Honour to show to the priest, and take the costly redemption;Only to Atrides Agamemnon it was unpleasing,Sternly who dismissed him with contumelious answer:‘Old man, let me not, by the hollow ships of AchaiaLingering find you now, or henceforth ever appearing,Lest to defend you fail the staff and wreaths of Apollo.Her do I not release until old age come upon her,In my house in the land of Argos, far from her country,Stepping at the loom and in the chamber attending.Go, and trouble me not, that your return be the safer.’

Goddess, the anger sing of the Pelean Achilles,

Fatal beginning of griefs unnumbered to the Achæans;

Many valiant souls untimely it hurried to Hades,

And the heroes left themselves of dogs to be eaten

And of ravenous birds—till Zeus’s plan was accomplished—

From the day when first contention arose to dissever

Atrides the King and the godlike hero Achilles.

What divinity thus incited them to contention?—

Zeus and Leto’s son; who, in anger with Agamemnon,

Sent a deadly disease on the host, destroying the people,

On account of the wrong the King to his worshipper offered,

Chryses, who had come to the hollow ships of Achaia,

To recover his daughter, with gifts of costly redemption,

Carrying in his hands the wreaths of the archer Apollo

Set on a golden staff—beseeching all the Achæans,

And the Atridæ in chief, the two in command of the nations:

‘Ye, Atreus’ sons, and other well-greaved Achaïan heroes,

May the gods, who live in Olympian houses, accord you

Capture of Priam’s town and safe to return to Achaia,

But liberate to me my child and take the redemption—

Fearing Zeus’s son, the far-death-dealing Apollo.’

Then the Achæans all with acclamation assented,

Honour to show to the priest, and take the costly redemption;

Only to Atrides Agamemnon it was unpleasing,

Sternly who dismissed him with contumelious answer:

‘Old man, let me not, by the hollow ships of Achaia

Lingering find you now, or henceforth ever appearing,

Lest to defend you fail the staff and wreaths of Apollo.

Her do I not release until old age come upon her,

In my house in the land of Argos, far from her country,

Stepping at the loom and in the chamber attending.

Go, and trouble me not, that your return be the safer.’

And replying, said godlike, swift-footed Achilles:‘Atrides, our chief, as in rank, so in love of possessions,Say, in what way shall the noble Achæans find you a present?Little we yet have gained the general stock to replenish,Distributed were all the spoils we took from the cities,And to recall our gifts and reapportion befits not—Yield you the maiden to-day to the god, and we, the Achæans,Three or four times over will compensate it, if everZeus the capture accord of the well-walled Ilian city.’And with words of reply the King Agamemnon addressed him:‘Think not, great as you are, O god-resembling Achilles,Thus to dissimulate and evade me with a profession;Is it that you desire to enjoy your prize, and to let meSit empty-handed here, and mine you bid me surrender—Doubtless, if the noble Achæans find me anotherSuitable to my wants and answerable in value;But, if they do not give, myself will make my election—Yours, or that, if I please, of Ajax or of Ulysses,I for my own will take, and leave the loser lamenting.At a suitable time this, after, will we determine;Now proceed we to haul a swift ship into the water,Choose the rowers to take her, and send the cattle aboard herFor sacrifice, and bring the beautiful daughter of ChrysesAlso on board, and appoint some prudent chief to convey her—Ajax shall it be, or Idomeneus, or Ulysses?Or will Pelides, incomparable of heroes,Go, and with holy rite appease the wrath of Apollo?’And with a frown swift-footed Achilles eyed him, and answered:‘O me! clothed-upon with impudence, greedy-hearted,How shall any Achæan again be willing to serve you,Make any expedition, or fight in battle to help you?Certainly not upon any account of the Troïan horsemenCame I hither to fight; they never gave me occasion,Never carried away any cattle of mine, any horses,Nor in Phthia ever, the rich land, feeder of people,Devastated the fruit; since numerous, to divide them,Mountains shadowy lie, and a sea’s tumultuous water:To’ attend thee we came, on thy effrontery waiting,Reparation to take of the Trojans for Menelaus,And thy unblushing self. All which you little remember,And can threaten to-day of my reward to deprive me,Dearly with labour earned, and given me by the Achæans.Do I ever receive any gift your gifts to compare with,When the Achæans sack any wealthy town of the Trojans?Truly the larger part of the busy, hurrying warfareMy hands have to discharge; but, in the day of division,Yours is the ample share, and I, content with a little,Thankfully turn to my ships, well wearied out with the fighting.Now to Phthia I go—far wiser for me to do so,Home with my hollow ships to travel, than for anotherAccumulate riches to be requited with insult.’And replying, said the king of men, Agamemnon:‘Go, if to go be your wish; I keep you not—do not ask youFor my honour to stay; I have others here to support it,Who—and Zeus above all, the Counsellor—will uphold meYou are the hatefullest to me of the Zeus-fed princes,Lover for evermore of brawl and battle and discord.Strong if you are, your strength was by some deity given.Home with your hollow ships, and with your people returningOrder the Myrmidonans: expect not me to regard you,Or to observe your wrath. I advertise you beforehand—As Chryseïda Phœbus Apollo hath bid me surrender,I in a ship of my own will with my people remit herHome, and the beautiful-cheeked Briseïda then to replace herOut of your tent, your prize, will carry; an argument to youHow much greater I am than yourself, and a warning to othersNot to oppose my will and talk with me as an equal.’So said he, and pain seized Pelides, and in the bosomUnder his hairy breast two purposes he divided,Either, from by his thigh the glittering blade unsheathing,To put aside the rest and straightway kill Agamemnon,Or to repress his wrath and check himself in his anger.With the purposes yet conflicting thus in his bosom,From the sheath the huge sword was issuing out, when AthenaCame from heaven: the goddess, the white-armed Hera, desired it,Solicitous for the good of the one alike and the other.Standing behind, by the yellow hair she drew back Achilles,Visible only to him, of the rest to no one apparent;And with wonder seized he turned, and knew in a momentPallas Athenæa, with dreadful eyes looking at him;And he opened his lips with wingèd words and addressed her:‘Wherefore art thou come, O child of the ægis-bearer;Was it the fury to see of Atrides Agamemnon?Lo, I declare it now, and you will see it accomplished,His injurious acts will bring his death-blow upon him.’And replying, said the blue-eyed goddess, Athena:‘To repress I came, if practicable, your anger,Out of heaven,—the goddess, the white-armed Hera, desired me,Solicitous for the good of the one alike and the other.Abstain from violence, put back the sword in the scabbard,Let opprobrious words, if necessary, requite him;For I declare it now, and you will see it accomplished,Three times as many gifts will soon, as costly, be sent youIn reparation of this; be ruled by us to be patient.’And replying, spoke and said swift-footed Achilles:‘Unto admonition of you two given, O goddess,Even the greatly incensed should yield; ’tis well to obey you;Who to the voice of the gods is obedient, they will assist him.’

And replying, said godlike, swift-footed Achilles:

‘Atrides, our chief, as in rank, so in love of possessions,

Say, in what way shall the noble Achæans find you a present?

Little we yet have gained the general stock to replenish,

Distributed were all the spoils we took from the cities,

And to recall our gifts and reapportion befits not—

Yield you the maiden to-day to the god, and we, the Achæans,

Three or four times over will compensate it, if ever

Zeus the capture accord of the well-walled Ilian city.’

And with words of reply the King Agamemnon addressed him:

‘Think not, great as you are, O god-resembling Achilles,

Thus to dissimulate and evade me with a profession;

Is it that you desire to enjoy your prize, and to let me

Sit empty-handed here, and mine you bid me surrender—

Doubtless, if the noble Achæans find me another

Suitable to my wants and answerable in value;

But, if they do not give, myself will make my election—

Yours, or that, if I please, of Ajax or of Ulysses,

I for my own will take, and leave the loser lamenting.

At a suitable time this, after, will we determine;

Now proceed we to haul a swift ship into the water,

Choose the rowers to take her, and send the cattle aboard her

For sacrifice, and bring the beautiful daughter of Chryses

Also on board, and appoint some prudent chief to convey her—

Ajax shall it be, or Idomeneus, or Ulysses?

Or will Pelides, incomparable of heroes,

Go, and with holy rite appease the wrath of Apollo?’

And with a frown swift-footed Achilles eyed him, and answered:

‘O me! clothed-upon with impudence, greedy-hearted,

How shall any Achæan again be willing to serve you,

Make any expedition, or fight in battle to help you?

Certainly not upon any account of the Troïan horsemen

Came I hither to fight; they never gave me occasion,

Never carried away any cattle of mine, any horses,

Nor in Phthia ever, the rich land, feeder of people,

Devastated the fruit; since numerous, to divide them,

Mountains shadowy lie, and a sea’s tumultuous water:

To’ attend thee we came, on thy effrontery waiting,

Reparation to take of the Trojans for Menelaus,

And thy unblushing self. All which you little remember,

And can threaten to-day of my reward to deprive me,

Dearly with labour earned, and given me by the Achæans.

Do I ever receive any gift your gifts to compare with,

When the Achæans sack any wealthy town of the Trojans?

Truly the larger part of the busy, hurrying warfare

My hands have to discharge; but, in the day of division,

Yours is the ample share, and I, content with a little,

Thankfully turn to my ships, well wearied out with the fighting.

Now to Phthia I go—far wiser for me to do so,

Home with my hollow ships to travel, than for another

Accumulate riches to be requited with insult.’

And replying, said the king of men, Agamemnon:

‘Go, if to go be your wish; I keep you not—do not ask you

For my honour to stay; I have others here to support it,

Who—and Zeus above all, the Counsellor—will uphold me

You are the hatefullest to me of the Zeus-fed princes,

Lover for evermore of brawl and battle and discord.

Strong if you are, your strength was by some deity given.

Home with your hollow ships, and with your people returning

Order the Myrmidonans: expect not me to regard you,

Or to observe your wrath. I advertise you beforehand—

As Chryseïda Phœbus Apollo hath bid me surrender,

I in a ship of my own will with my people remit her

Home, and the beautiful-cheeked Briseïda then to replace her

Out of your tent, your prize, will carry; an argument to you

How much greater I am than yourself, and a warning to others

Not to oppose my will and talk with me as an equal.’

So said he, and pain seized Pelides, and in the bosom

Under his hairy breast two purposes he divided,

Either, from by his thigh the glittering blade unsheathing,

To put aside the rest and straightway kill Agamemnon,

Or to repress his wrath and check himself in his anger.

With the purposes yet conflicting thus in his bosom,

From the sheath the huge sword was issuing out, when Athena

Came from heaven: the goddess, the white-armed Hera, desired it,

Solicitous for the good of the one alike and the other.

Standing behind, by the yellow hair she drew back Achilles,

Visible only to him, of the rest to no one apparent;

And with wonder seized he turned, and knew in a moment

Pallas Athenæa, with dreadful eyes looking at him;

And he opened his lips with wingèd words and addressed her:

‘Wherefore art thou come, O child of the ægis-bearer;

Was it the fury to see of Atrides Agamemnon?

Lo, I declare it now, and you will see it accomplished,

His injurious acts will bring his death-blow upon him.’

And replying, said the blue-eyed goddess, Athena:

‘To repress I came, if practicable, your anger,

Out of heaven,—the goddess, the white-armed Hera, desired me,

Solicitous for the good of the one alike and the other.

Abstain from violence, put back the sword in the scabbard,

Let opprobrious words, if necessary, requite him;

For I declare it now, and you will see it accomplished,

Three times as many gifts will soon, as costly, be sent you

In reparation of this; be ruled by us to be patient.’

And replying, spoke and said swift-footed Achilles:

‘Unto admonition of you two given, O goddess,

Even the greatly incensed should yield; ’tis well to obey you;

Who to the voice of the gods is obedient, they will assist him.’

From thy far sources, ’mid mountains airily climbing,Pass to the rich lowland, thou busy sunny river;Murmuring once, dimpling, pellucid, limpid, abundant,Deepening now, widening, swelling, a lordly river.Through woodlands steering, with branches waving above thee,Through the meadows sinuous, wandering irriguous;Towns, hamlets leaving, towns by thee, bridges across thee,Pass to palace garden, pass to cities populous.Murmuring once, dimpling, ’mid woodlands wandering idly,Now with mighty vessels loaded, a mighty river.Pass to the great waters, though tides may seem to resist thee,Tides to resist seeming, quickly will lend thee passage,Pass to the dark waters that roaring wait to receive thee;Pass them thou wilt not, thou busy sunny river.Freshwater, 1861.

From thy far sources, ’mid mountains airily climbing,

Pass to the rich lowland, thou busy sunny river;

Murmuring once, dimpling, pellucid, limpid, abundant,

Deepening now, widening, swelling, a lordly river.

Through woodlands steering, with branches waving above thee,

Through the meadows sinuous, wandering irriguous;

Towns, hamlets leaving, towns by thee, bridges across thee,

Pass to palace garden, pass to cities populous.

Murmuring once, dimpling, ’mid woodlands wandering idly,

Now with mighty vessels loaded, a mighty river.

Pass to the great waters, though tides may seem to resist thee,

Tides to resist seeming, quickly will lend thee passage,

Pass to the dark waters that roaring wait to receive thee;

Pass them thou wilt not, thou busy sunny river.

Freshwater, 1861.

Trunks the forest yielded with gums ambrosial oozing,Boughs with apples laden beautiful, Hesperian,Golden, odoriferous, perfume exhaling about them,Orbs in a dark umbrage luminous and radiant;To the palate grateful, more luscious were not in Eden,Or in that fabled garden of Alcinoüs;Out of a dark umbrage sounds also musical issued,Birds their sweet transports uttering in melody:Thrushes clear piping, wood-pigeons cooing, arousingLoudly the nightingale, loudly the sylvan echoes;Waters transpicuous flowed under, flowed to the list’ningEar with a soft murmur, softly soporiferous;Nor, with ebon locks too, there wanted, circling, attentiveUnto the sweet fluting, girls, of a swarthy shepherd;Over a sunny level their flocks are lazily feeding,They of Amor musing rest in a leafy cavern.1861

Trunks the forest yielded with gums ambrosial oozing,

Boughs with apples laden beautiful, Hesperian,

Golden, odoriferous, perfume exhaling about them,

Orbs in a dark umbrage luminous and radiant;

To the palate grateful, more luscious were not in Eden,

Or in that fabled garden of Alcinoüs;

Out of a dark umbrage sounds also musical issued,

Birds their sweet transports uttering in melody:

Thrushes clear piping, wood-pigeons cooing, arousing

Loudly the nightingale, loudly the sylvan echoes;

Waters transpicuous flowed under, flowed to the list’ning

Ear with a soft murmur, softly soporiferous;

Nor, with ebon locks too, there wanted, circling, attentive

Unto the sweet fluting, girls, of a swarthy shepherd;

Over a sunny level their flocks are lazily feeding,

They of Amor musing rest in a leafy cavern.

1861

So spake the voice: and as with a single lifeInstinct, the whole mass, fierce, irretainable,Down on that unsuspecting host swept;Down, with the fury of winds, that all nightUpbrimming, sapping slowly the dyke, at dawnFall through the breach o’er holmstead and harvest; andHeard roll a deluge: while the milkmaidTrips i’ the dew, and remissly guidingMorn’s first uneven furrow, the farmer’s boyDreams out his dream; so, over the multitudeSafe-tented, uncontrolled and uncon-trollably sped the Avenger’s fury.

So spake the voice: and as with a single life

Instinct, the whole mass, fierce, irretainable,

Down on that unsuspecting host swept;

Down, with the fury of winds, that all night

Upbrimming, sapping slowly the dyke, at dawn

Fall through the breach o’er holmstead and harvest; and

Heard roll a deluge: while the milkmaid

Trips i’ the dew, and remissly guiding

Morn’s first uneven furrow, the farmer’s boy

Dreams out his dream; so, over the multitude

Safe-tented, uncontrolled and uncon-

trollably sped the Avenger’s fury.

Over a mountain slope with lentisk, and with aboundingArbutus, and the red oak overtufted, ’mid a noontideNow glowing fervidly, the Leto-born, the divine one,Artemis, Arcadian wood-rover, alone, hunt-weary,Unto a dell cent’ring many streamlets her foot unerringHad guided. Platanus with fig-tree shaded a hollow,Shaded a waterfall, where pellucid yet abundantStreams from perpetual full-flowing sources a current:Lower on either bank in sunshine flowered the oleanders:Plenteous under a rock green herbage here to the marginGrew with white poplars overcrowning. She thither arrived,Unloosening joyfully the vest enfolded upon her,Swift her divine shoulders discovering, swiftly revealingHer maidenly bosom and all her beauty beneath it,To the river water overflowing to receive herYielded her ambrosial nakedness. But with an instantConscious, with the instant the’ immortal terrific angerFlew to the guilty doer: that moment, where amid amplyConcealing plane-leaves he the’ opportunity pursued,Long vainly, possessed, unwise, Actæon, of hunters,Hapless of Arcadian, and most misguided of hunters,Knew the divine mandate, knew fate directed upon him.He, to the boughs crouching, with dreadful joy the desired oneHad viewed descending, viewed as in a dream, disarraying,And the unclad shoulders awestruck, awestruck let his eyes seeThe maidenly bosom, but not—dim fear fell upon them—Not more had witnessed. Not, therefore, less the forest throughRanging, their master ceasing thenceforth to remember,With the instant together came trooping, as to devour himHis dogs from the ambush.—Transformed suddenly before them,He fled, an antlered stag wild with terror to the mountain,She, the liquid stream in, her limbs carelessly reclining,The flowing waters collected grateful about her.

Over a mountain slope with lentisk, and with abounding

Arbutus, and the red oak overtufted, ’mid a noontide

Now glowing fervidly, the Leto-born, the divine one,

Artemis, Arcadian wood-rover, alone, hunt-weary,

Unto a dell cent’ring many streamlets her foot unerring

Had guided. Platanus with fig-tree shaded a hollow,

Shaded a waterfall, where pellucid yet abundant

Streams from perpetual full-flowing sources a current:

Lower on either bank in sunshine flowered the oleanders:

Plenteous under a rock green herbage here to the margin

Grew with white poplars overcrowning. She thither arrived,

Unloosening joyfully the vest enfolded upon her,

Swift her divine shoulders discovering, swiftly revealing

Her maidenly bosom and all her beauty beneath it,

To the river water overflowing to receive her

Yielded her ambrosial nakedness. But with an instant

Conscious, with the instant the’ immortal terrific anger

Flew to the guilty doer: that moment, where amid amply

Concealing plane-leaves he the’ opportunity pursued,

Long vainly, possessed, unwise, Actæon, of hunters,

Hapless of Arcadian, and most misguided of hunters,

Knew the divine mandate, knew fate directed upon him.

He, to the boughs crouching, with dreadful joy the desired one

Had viewed descending, viewed as in a dream, disarraying,

And the unclad shoulders awestruck, awestruck let his eyes see

The maidenly bosom, but not—dim fear fell upon them—

Not more had witnessed. Not, therefore, less the forest through

Ranging, their master ceasing thenceforth to remember,

With the instant together came trooping, as to devour him

His dogs from the ambush.—Transformed suddenly before them,

He fled, an antlered stag wild with terror to the mountain,

She, the liquid stream in, her limbs carelessly reclining,

The flowing waters collected grateful about her.

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