_Pr._ Revere, pray, flatter each successive ruler.
Me less than nothing Zeus concerns.
Let him do, let him prevail this short time As he will, for long he will not rule the gods,-- But I see here, indeed, Zeus' runner, The new tryant's drudge; Doubtless he brings some new message.
PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ HERMES.
_Her._ To thee, the sophist, the bitterly bitter, The sinner against gods, the giver of honors To ephemerals, the thief of fire, I speak; The Father commands thee to tell the marriage Which you boast, by which he falls from power; And that, too, not enigmatically, But each particular declare; nor cause me Double journeys, Prometheus; for thou see'st that Zeus is not appeased by such.
_Pr._ Solemn-mouthed and full of wisdom Is thy speech, as of the servant of the gods.
Ye newly rule, and think forsooth To dwell in griefless citadels; have I not seen Two tyrants fallen from these?
And third I shall behold him ruling now, Basest and speediest. Do I seem to thee To fear and shrink from the new gods?
Nay, much and wholly I fall short of this.
The way thou cam'st go through the dust again; For thou wilt learn naught which thou ask'st of me.
_Her._ Ay, by such insolence before You brought yourself into these woes.
_Pr._ Plainly know, I would not change My ill fortune for thy servitude, For better, I think, to serve this rock Than be the faithful messenger of Father Zeus.
Thus to insult the insulting it is fit.
_Her._ Thou seem'st to enjoy thy present state.
_Pr._ I enjoy? Enjoying thus my enemies Would I see; and thee 'mong them I count.
_Her._ Dost thou blame me for aught of thy misfortunes?
_Pr._ In plain words, all gods I hate, As many as well treated wrong me unjustly.
_Her._ I hear thee raving, no slight ail.
_Pr._ Ay, I should ail, if ail one's foes to hate.
_Her._ If prosperous, thou couldst not be borne.
_Pr._ Ah me!
_Her._ This word Zeus does not know.
_Pr._ But time growing old teaches all things.
_Her._ And still thou know'st not yet how to be prudent.
_Pr._ For I should not converse with thee a servant.
_Her._ Thou seem'st to say naught which the Father wishes.
_Pr._ And yet his debtor I'd requite the favor.
_Her._ Thou mock'st me verily as if I were a child.
_Pr._ And art thou not a child, and simpler still than this, If thou expectest to learn aught from me?
There is not outrage nor expedient, by which Zeus will induce me to declare these things, Before he loose these grievous bonds.
Let there be hurled, then, flaming fire, And the white-winged snows, and thunders Of the earth, let him confound and mingle all.
For none of these will bend me till I tell By whom 't is necessary he should fall from sovereignty.
_Her._ Consider now if these things seem helpful.
_Pr._ Long since these were considered and resolved.
_Her._ Venture, O vain one, venture, at length, In view of present sufferings to be wise.
_Pr._ In vain you vex me, as a wave, exhorting.
Ne'er let it come into thy mind that I, fearing Zeus' anger, shall become woman-minded, And beg him, greatly hated, With womanish upturnings of the hands, To loose me from these bonds. I am far from it.
_Her._ Though saying much I seem in vain to speak; For thou art nothing softened nor appeased By prayers; but champing at the bit like a new-yoked Colt, thou strugglest and contend'st against the reins.
But thou art violent with feeble wisdom.
For stubbornness to him who is not wise, Itself alone, is less than nothing strong.
But consider, if thou art not persuaded by my words, What storm and triple surge of ills Will come upon thee, not to be avoided; for first this rugged Cliff with thunder and lightning flame The Father'll rend, and hide Thy body, and a strong arm will bury thee.
When thou hast spent a long length of time, Thou wilt come back to light; and Zeus' Winged dog, a bloodthirsty eagle, ravenously Shall tear the great rag of thy body, Creeping an uninvited guest all day, And banquet on thy liver black by eating.
Of such suffering expect not any end, Before some god appear Succeeding to thy labors, and wish to go to rayless Hades, and the dark depths of Tartarus.
Therefore deliberate; since this is not made Boasting, but in earnest spoken; For to speak falsely does not know the mouth Of Zeus, but every word he does. So Look about thee, and consider, nor ever think Obstinacy better than prudence.
_Ch._ To us indeed Hermes appears to say not unseasonable things, For he directs thee, leaving off Self-will, to seek prudent counsel.
Obey; for it is base to err, for a wise man.
_Pr._ To me foreknowing these messages He has uttered, but for a foe to suffer ill From foes is naught unseemly.
Therefore 'gainst me let there be hurled Fire's double-pointed curl, and air Be provoked with thunder, and a tumult Of wild winds; and earth from its foundations Let a wind rock, and its very roots, And with a rough surge mingle The sea waves with the passages Of the heavenly stars, and to black Tartarus let him quite cast down my Body, by necessity's strong eddies.
Yet after all he will not kill me.
_Her._ Such words and counsels you may hear From the brain-struck.
For what lacks he of being mad?
And if prosperous, what does he cease from madness?
Do you, therefore, who sympathize With this one's suffering, From these places quick withdraw somewhere, Lest the harsh bellowing thunder Stupefy your minds.
_Ch._ Say something else, and exhort me To some purpose; for surely Thou hast intolerably abused this word.
How direct me to perform a baseness?
I wish to suffer with him whate'er is necessary, For I have learned to hate betrayers; Nor is the pest Which I abominate more than this.
_Her._ Remember, then, what I foretell; Nor by calamity pursued Blame fortune, nor e'er say That Zeus into unforeseen Ill has cast you; surely not, but yourselves You yourselves; for knowing, And not suddenly nor clandestinely, You'll be entangled through your folly In an impassable net of woe.
_Pr._ Surely indeed, and no more in word, Earth is shaken; And a hoarse sound of thunder Bellows near; and wreaths of lightning Flash out fiercely blazing, and whirlwinds dust Whirl up; and leap the blasts Of all winds, 'gainst one another Blowing in opposite array; And air with sea is mingled; Such impulse against me from Zeus, Producing fear, doth plainly come.
O revered Mother, O Ether Revolving common light to all, You see me, how unjust things I endure!
TRANSLATIONS FROM PINDAR ELYSIUM OLYMPIA II, 109-150 Equally by 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 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.
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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, or 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 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.
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 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 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 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 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.
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 off Grievous famine from the stomach.
THE VENALITY OF THE MUSE ISTHMIA II, 9-18 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 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 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 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 bough Were vessel safe enough the seas to plough."]
FROM SEXTUS EMPIRICUS 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 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 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-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 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."
FOOTNOTE: [7] [This and the following are fragments of Pindar found in ancient authors.]
POEMS NATURE 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 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 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.
INSPIRATION[8] Whate'er we leave to God, God does, And blesses us; The work we choose should be our own, God leaves alone.
* * * * * If with 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 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 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.
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 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 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.
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 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.
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, 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 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.
* * * * * Fame cannot tempt the bard Who's famous with his God, Nor laurel him reward Who hath his Maker's nod.
THE AURORA OF GUIDO[9] A FRAGMENT The god 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 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 seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam, Far circling out over the frothy waves,-- * * * * * TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST[10] 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 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 mind To my retreat did wind.
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 day Along his dusty way; But thy noontide completes Only auroral heats, Nor ever sets, To hasten vain regrets.
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 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 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 boat Where water-lilies float, And cardinal-flowers Stand in their sylvan bowers.
TO MY BROTHER 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 kind Than they appear?
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.
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 brink Of yonder river's tide?
And may I ever think That thou art by my side?
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 gone Their lively labor rests.
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.
GREECE[11] When life 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,