Classic Poem

By grace of the Gods there be countless paths far-spreading before my feet;
But, Melissus, thou at the Isthmian Games hast shown me a highway meet
Whereon to follow in song the track of the prowess of thy line
Wherein the sons of Kleonymus ever have prospered by help divine,
And so pass on to the term of mortal life; but ever shifting
Are the winds of fate that swoop upon man, and drive him chartless-drifting.

Ay, the story of these from of yore is told, how with honour in Thebes they were named
Warders they were of the tribes dwelling round, and in arrogance brawling unshamed
No part they had; and what records soever there be of the men which have died,
Or of yet living men, such as fly wind-blown through the whole world far and wide,
Records of limitless glory, these they attained in their fulness receiving:
Yea, Herakles' Pillars they touched by the gallant deeds of their line's achieving;—

But let none press on to achievement that reacheth
Farther beyond that bound!—
And in that house many a lover
Of the rearing of steeds was found.
And they joyed in the lore that the War-god teacheth.
But ere one day's hours passed over,
The merciless sleet-laden tempest of war had bereft of hero-scions four
That hearth once happy; but now again
After the wintry gloom of the months of changeful vesture, the earth once more
Hath blossomed with roses of crimson grain.

By the will of Heaven. The Shaker of Earth, who hath at Onchestus his halls,
And whose mansion is on the sea-lashed ridge afront of Corinth's walls,
Even he bestoweth upon that house this hymn of wondrous praise,
And the olden glory of far-famed deeds from her bed doth he upraise
Where erst she had fallen on sleep, but now is awakened, and shines resplendent
Over all her form, as the Morning Star mid the stars is a light transcendent,—

That olden glory which even on Athens' fields proclaimed the renown
Of a chariot-triumph; then in Adrastus' Games at Sikyon-town
Gave wreathèd leaves of such old-time song as these of our own days are.
Nor yet at the national contests failed they to ride the curvèd car;
But they joyed in contending with all the Hellenes, in spending on steeds their treasure.
But unhonoured, unsung, is the man that spareth his might against others to measure.

Yea, even when champions in strife be contending,
Till the end in uncertainty
Her face Queen Fortune veileth;
For triumph now giveth she
And anon defeat; but at whiles in the ending
The craft of the weaker prevaileth
To cast to the earth the stronger. Ye know of the prowess of Aias the blood-stained fame,
How, when the night was now far spent,
He cast himself on his own sword, thereby bringing reproach and abiding shame
On the sons of Hellenes that Troyward went.

But lo, he is honoured of Homer the wide world over, who set on high
All knightly prowess of Aias; and his god-gifted poesy
Hath taught the measure whereby all other bards must frame the lay:
For a noble song passeth down the years with a voice that liveth for aye,
And over the harvest-abounding earth, and across the sea for ever
Goeth the sunbright shining of noble deeds, to be quenchèd never.

May the Muses to us be gracious, that so we may kindle a beacon-light
Of song for Melissus, a wreath that shall worthily crown the pankratian might
Of the son of the House of Telesias; for he showeth in conflict's toil
The courage of roaring lions, and coupled therewith the fox's guile
Who lies on his back, so holding at bay the eagle's swoop down-rushing.
So cunning and strength must alike be used for the adversary's crushing.
For not by nature was this man dowered
With Orion's giant height;
Mean was he to outward showing,
But with iron-heavy might
In the grapple his foe he overpowered.
So of old for Antaius' o'erthrowing
To his dwelling in Libya's corn-land came a man low-statured, a hero who bore
A spirit unflinching in conflict-strain,
A scion of Thebes whose wrestling-grip should for ever stay him from roofing o'er
With the skulls of strangers Poseidon's fane,

Even the son of Alkmena, who passed to Olympus after that he
Had tracked all lands, and traversed the cliff-walled face of the surf-white sea,
Had slain the sea-rovers, and safe for voyagers made the sea's highway.
And now by the Aegis-bearer in glorious bliss he dwelleth for aye,
As a friend is honoured of all the Immortals, with Hebe hath made affiance,
Is lord of a golden palace, is kinsman to Hera by spousal-alliance

For him above the Elektran Gate we burghers the feast prepare,
And the crown-like ring of the altars newly-built will we set to him there,
And our sacrifices will offer for those eight bronze-mailed heroes who died,
Whom Megara, Kreon's daughter, bare, that mighty Hero's bride—
They unto whom at the sun's down-going the nightlong flame is uplifted,
And with odorous reek its smoke is lashing the welkin, through cloudland drifted.

Then on the second day is holden
The struggle of athlete-might,
The crown of the year's games ended.
There with his brows made bright
With leaves of the myrtle-wreath enfolden
Twin triumphs Melissus blended,
When already among the boys he had won another by heeding diligently
The words of the wisely-counselling tongue.
Of the pilot trainer who steered his course: with Melissus Orseas' name join I
As I shed on them grace of delightsome song.