rains of heaven, the children of the cloud,
Bring blessing in their train.
But when by toil one winneth victory,
The singer’s honey-throated lays
Upringing, plant for fame that yet shall be
A sure foundation, are a prophecy
Of exploits worthy praise.
Far beyond envy are the praises stored
For victors at Olympia crowned.
Songs are my sheep; I, as some shepherd-lord,
Find them fair pasture-ground.
By God’s gift inspiration bloometh aye
In the bard’s heart unfadingly.
Son of Archestratus, know thou this day,
Agesidamus, that my victory-lay
Shall sweetly sound for thee,
Shall for the triumph of thy ring-craft grace
With splendour thy bright olive-wreath,
And honour therewithal the Lokrian race
Fanned by the West-wind’s breath.
O Song-queens, hither speed your festal feet!
I pledge me in sincerity
No guest-repelling folk ye there shall meet,
Nor in fair chivalry
Unschooled: nay, over wisdom’s heights they range,
They with the spear were valiant ever.
That these be like their sires is nowise strange:
Red fox and thunder-throated lion change
Their inborn nature never.
XII
For Ergoteles of Himera in Sicily (whither he had come to live when forced by political faction to leave his native city of Knossus in Crete), on his victory in the long foot-race (three miles), 472 BC.
Hear, O thou Daughter of Zeus the Deliverer, Fortune the Saver
From peril! Keep watch and ward, I implore,
Over Himera, burg of the far-stretching might; for ’tis by thy favour
That ships be steered to their haven-shore
Over the sea; and torrent-like wars, and council-decisions
Be guided on land. Tossed high, whelmed low
Be the hopes of men, as over a sea of delusive visions
Cleaving the treacherous waves they go.
But through all the years never any of men on the earth abiding
Hath found sure tokens from God to reveal
How he shall fare in the days to come, but in darkness hiding
Are the future’s warnings of woe or weal.
Many chances to men have befallen, yea, past all expectation:
Some plunge from joy into sorrow’s abyss;
And some, who have battled with troublous surges, by sudden mutation
Their anguish have changed for the height of bliss.
O son of Philanor, verily even thy swift feet’s glory
Had as dead leaves faded, unmarked, uncrowned,
There by the hearth of thy fathers: thy name had been heard not in story;
As a home-fighting cock hadst thou been unrenowned,
Had contention in Knossus of burgher with burgher in conflict gory
In the homeland not left thee no foot of ground.
But now at Olympia, Ergoteles, winning a victory-garland
And at Isthmus, at Pytho, twain—by these
Thou exaltest to honour the steaming Baths of the Nymphs in a far land,
On thine own lands dwelling in stormless peace.
XIII
For Xenophon of Corinth (whose father had won the foot-race forty years before), on his double victory in the Foot-race and the Pentathlon—an unprecedented feat. The Pentathlon consisted of five events, foot-race, long jump, discus, javelin, wrestling. Victory in three events assured a competitor of the crown. 464 BC.
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 strong15
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
