Classic Poem

As they do in a banquet of men when the revelry runneth high,
So do we mingle a second bowl of the Song-queen's strain
Unto Lampon's athlete-seed do we render honour thereby.
Our first was outpoured to thee, Zeus, in the day that saw us gain
The crown of all crowns at Nemea; the second this day pour we
To the Lord of the Isthmus and Nereus' fifty Maids of the Sea
For the House's youngest scion Phylakidas' victory.
Oh may we make ready a third for the Saviour Olympus' Lord!
So may a libation of honey-sweet songs on Aegina be poured!

For if one of the sons of men who exults in the cost and the toil
Attain to achievement that shall like a god-built tower stand,
And with Heaven's help plant the seed of renown in a fruitful soil,
God-honoured he casteth his anchor on Fortune's farthest strand
Unto such desires to attain this son of Kleonymus prays
Or ever he cometh with death or with hoar hairs face to face
And of Klotho enthroned on high this day I implore her grace,
Praying her and her sister Fates propitiously now to draw near
To the heavenward-ringing petition of him that I hold so dear.

And you, O Aiakus' sons, upon golden chariots mounted,
I deem it a sacred ordinance laid most clearly on me,
Whensoe'er I set foot on your isle, to shower on you praise; for uncounted
Highways of five-score feet stretch farther than eye can see
For your noble achievements: they pass to southward beyond Nile's fountains,
And away to the land lying north of where Boreas leaps from his mountains.
No city there is so uncouth of speech, but hath heard the story
Of the blest one, spouse of a Goddess, of hero Peleus' glory,

And hath heard of Aias Telamon's scion, and Aias' sire.
Him did Alkmena's son, to requite Laomedon's lie,
Lead with his warriors of Tiryns, an ally whose soul was afire
For the joy of the harness of battle, in galleys led him to Troy,
To the land of heroes' travail. So Pergamus-city was laid
In the dust by Herakles' might. Thereafter, with Telamon's aid,
The tribes of the Meropes slew he, against him in battle arrayed,
And the herdman huge as a mountain, Alkyoneus, whom he found
In Phlegra, and spared not his bowstring's thunder-clanging rebound.

But when Herakles came to bid to the voyaging Aiakus' son,
Him with his company feasting he found, and as there he stood
In the lion-skin, Telamon called on the son of Amphitryon
The first libation to pour of the cluster's nectar-blood;
And the chalice rough with the gold embossed with the word did he place
Wine-brimming in Herakles' hands. Thereupon did the hero raise
His hands, the invincible hands, in prayer to the firmament's space;
And he lifted his voice: ‘If ever, O Zeus Allfather, thou
Hast hearkened with willing soul unto prayer of mine, O now

With heavenward-soaring prayers unto thee do I make my petition
To perfect in Eriboia's womb for the man at my side
A valiant son, who shall aye be my friend by Fate's decision,
One of thews invincibly stalwart, hard as the lion's hide
That at Nemea, first of my labours, I slew, this fell enfolding
My shoulders, and may his courage be worthy his frame's strong moulding!’
He spake, and a mighty eagle the God sent down from his heaven,
Monarch of birds; and with rapture thrilled for the omen given

Herakles lifted his voice, and he spake as speaketh a seer:
‘Lo, thou shalt have the son thou desirest, Telamon;
And after the name of the bird that thou sawest but now appear,
So shalt thou name him, Aias, a world-famed mighty one,
In the battle-toils of thy people a warrior deadly strong.’
So spake he, and sat him down. But for me it were all too long
Of all their achievements to tell. I came, O Queen of Song,
For Phylakidas, Pytheas, Euthymenes, the march to array.
Of the triumph-procession, and brief, after Argive wont, be the lay.

In Isthmian pankration victories three did they win by their might,
And from leaf-shadowed Nemea yet more triumphs, those glorious boys,
And their mother's brother. How fair a portion of song to the light
Did they bring! And with brightest dews of refreshing did they rejoice
The Clan of the Psalychidae; and now have they raised to renown
By their prowess the House of Themistius; yea, and in this good town
Do they dwell, whereon the Gods with loving eyes look down
And, honouring Hesiod's words—‘Whatsoever he findeth to do,’
That Lampon ‘doth with his might,’ and exhorteth his sons thereto.

So he brings to his city glory, the weal of the whole state serving
He is loved for his kindness to strangers: the golden mean alway
In purpose, the golden mean in action he follows unswerving
His tongue is at one with his thoughts. Amid athletes he is, thou canst say,
As the Naxian stone that in grinding of bronze all other excelleth
I will give him to drink of Dirke's taintless spring that upwelleth
By the stately-rampired gates of the city of Kadmus, whose waters
Were caused to leap to the light by Memory's deep-zoned daughters