Classic Poem

Now, while I laud a house that thrice can vaunt
Olympian victory, gracious to the guest,
To fellow-burghers courteous, I will chant
With theirs the praise of Corinth heaven-blest.
Here Isthmian Poseidon fixed his portals,
This city glorious—noble sons are hers!
Here hath Fair Governance her home mid mortals,
Here dwell her sisters, city-stablishers,
Justice, and Peace her fellow-fosterling:
God's stewards of true wealth to men they be,
Themis's golden daughters, they who bring
Wise counsels from the Queen of Equity;

And resolute are they afar to scare
Insolence, glutted greed's tongue-shameless dam.
Fair witness of them it is mine to bear;
By forthright boldness spurred to speak I am.
None can suppress our nature's inborn powers,
Hide them can none. On you, Aletes' seed,
Oftentimes have the Seasons crowned with flowers
Bestowed the splendour of the victor's meed
As upon men with hero-prowess fired,
Men in the sacred Games with victory wreathed;
And oft into men's souls have they inspired
Devices wise by them of old bequeathed.

To him of whom first each invention came
Is all the honour due. Who caused to appear
Dionysus' graces, with the dithyramb
That wins the ox? Who unto horses' gear
Added the rein? On temples god-enshrining
Who set the twofold image of the king
Of birds? Flower-fragrant there the Muse is shining,
And Ares spear-girt by a warrior-ring.

Olympian Lord most high, who far and wide
Reignest, grudge not fulfilment of my prayer
Through all time! May this city's folk abide
In safety! May the breeze of fortune fair
That breathes on Xenophon, blow constant ever!
The due procession singing home his crown
Accept thou, as from Pisa's plain and river
He leads it onward to his native town.
For victor in the Contests Five is he
And in the foot-race: so hath he attained
Such glory multiplied of victory
As mortal never yet before hath gained.

And shadowed was his head by garlands twain
When Isthmus saw him win the parsley-meed:
Kindness no less from Nemea did he gain
The record of his father's lightning speed
Is treasured still where Alpheus softly paces
Yea, and at Pytho by his feet were won
The crowns of honour in the twofold races,
Single and double, under one day's sun.
In that same month at rocky Athens-town
A day fulfilled of glorious victory
Set on his hair crown after victor's crown
Whose flying feet had won him races three.

Seven times Hellotia crowned him. 'Twere too long
To tell how with their father Ptoiadore
Did Terpsias and Eritimus strong
Triumph in games beside the Sea-god's shore;
How oft at Delphi ye, and in the Lion's
Dark glen stood first—though my song-treasury
Outrival all bards, their tale bids defiance
To reckoning; countless as the sands they be.

But to each thing pertaineth measure meet,
And best of all it is to know aright
The fit time. I, who sail in your great fleet,
Yet choose mine own course, sing the battle-might
And wisdom of old days, and in the telling
Lie not,—of heroism's highways trod
By Corinth, and of Sisyphus excelling
In cunning counsels even as some God,
And of Medea, her who dared defy
Her father, chose at her own heart's behest
A bridegroom, and the saviour was thereby
Of Argo and the Heroes of the Quest.

Again of old when dashed the war's red seas
Against Troy's walls, 'twas ever Corinth's sons
That swayed to either side war's balance, these
Helping Atreides and his mighty ones
To win back Helen, those to make resistance
Unto the uttermost, when Danaans quailed
Before strong Glaukus, who from the far distance
Of Lycia's highlands flashed on them bronze-mailed,
And vaunted of his father's empery
Over the city of Peirene there,
And of his heritage of deep-loamed lea,
And of his stately palace royal-fair,

That sire who sorely suffered by the spring
Where he would fain bind snake-haired Gorgon's son
Pegasus. Dreaming, he saw Pallas bring
The bridle that with golden frontlet shone:—
And lo, 'twas no dream! ‘Aiolid prince, awake thee!’
She cried—‘Receive this spell to charm yon steed.
To thine horse-taming Sire with this betake thee;
There let a white bull on his altar bleed.’

Thus as he slumbered in the gloom of night,
The Maid of the Dark Aegis seemed to say.
Upleaping, on his feet he stood upright,
And seized the marvel that beside him lay
Then joyously to Corinth's seer he wended,
And to the son of Koiranus he showed
How that strange venture of the night had ended,
How, trusting all the prophet did forebode,
He laid him down to sleep all through the night
Upon the altar in Athene's fane;
How she, the Child of Him whose lance of light
Is levin, with her own hands did she deign

To bring to him the spirit-taming gold.
The seer bade haste that vision to obey;
To the Wide-ruler who doth earth enfold
The bull, the mighty-footed beast, to slay;
And then to rear to Pallas chariot-reining
An altar. Ah, by power of Gods is brought
To pass a thing transcending prayers' attaining,
Transcending all hope—effortlessly wrought!
So was it now; for strong Bellerophon
With haste impetuous hied him forth to quell
That winged steed—lo, the victory was won
When touched his jaws the fury-stilling spell!

He sprang on Pegasus' back; in brazen mail
Arrayed to play the play of swords he sped;
And riding on that steed did he assail
From the chill cloudland's folds untenanted
The Amazon host, the maids that bear the quiver;
Fire-breath'd Chimaera slew and Solymi.
That steed in Zeus's stalls abideth ever:—
His rider's doom I pass in silence by.

But, as I hurl the whizzing casting-spear,
My shaft beside the mark I may not speed.
To Song-queens splendour-throned with joy draws near
Their champion, and to Oligaithus' seed.
How oft at Nemea these have shone victorious
And at the Isthmus, all will I comprise
In few words: of the record passing-glorious
My tale a truthful witness ratifies,—
Ay, under oath,—that noble herald's tongue
Which published threescore victories in the names
Of this House—welcome-sweet his accents rung!—
When Nemea and the Isthmus held their games.

Touching their victories at Olympia won,
Meseems, the tale already hath been told;
And of the great deeds that shall yet be done,
Their tale hereafter shall my song unfold
Clearly. I hope now: with God lies the issue;
But, if this House's fortune speed, I trow,
Zeus and the War-god's hands shall weave the tissue
Of that bright future. 'Neath Parnassus' brow
Six triumphs won they: all at Argos gained
And Thebes, and where by that Lykaian height
The altar royal unto Zeus ordained
Shall witness in Arcadia's people's sight,

And in Pellene, Megara, Sikyon,
And in the Aiakids' close fair-walled around,
And at Eleusis, shining Marathon,
And towns by Etna's huge mass overfrowned,
Euboea—nay, all Hellas through, thy questing
Shall prove them countless. Zeus, who answerest prayer,
Light let their feet glide on! Be honour resting
On these, all bliss be theirs and fortune fair!