Victory Odes

told long erewhile
I recall, how that Jason was reared in the cave of the rock-rib rafter
By deep-thoughted Cheiron, who nurtured Asklepius thereafter,
And taught how by herbs and the pain-soothing hand is disease resisted,
And who won for Peleus the Daughter of Nereus, the ivory-wristed,
And fostered for her that goodliest man of men, their son,
And trained up his soul unto greatness by chivalry alone,

Epode 3

That, borne on the swift-rushing wings of the winds o’er the sea’s highway
Unto Troy, he might bide the Lycian and Phrygian and Dardan array
As their battle-cry rang through the clashing of lances, and close undaunted
With the Aethiop spearmen, and set the resolve in his heart firm-planted
That Helenus’ fiery-hearted kinsman from battle-strain
Should return not, nor Memnon their chieftain behold his home again.

Strophe 4

Thence flashed it, the splendour of Aiakus’ house, which abideth for aye,
O Zeus! They are thy blood: thine is the contest whereon my lay
Like an arrow hath lit; in its strains young voices the glory are singing
Of the land: for victorious Aristokleides ’tis meetly outringing,
Who hath added another wreath of renown unto this isle’s story,
And hath brightened the Pythian Shrine of the Envoys with visions of glory.
For the issue of all endeavours is seen in the hour of the test,
Whereby alone is it proved what champion is best of the best,

Antistrophe 4

Be he a boy among boys, or a man among men, or again
An elder mid elders, as places in life’s race-course appertain
Unto humankind⁠—yea, four be the excellences attending
Each life, and to each as it comes all heed should a man be lending.
Thou art lacking in none. Farewell, friend! Lo, unto thee am speeding
The Muses’ honey; and blended therewith is milk white-beading
With fairy bubbles the foam of whose mingling mantles around
A chalice of song ushered in by Aeolian flutes’ sweet sound,

Epode 4

Late though it come. Most swift is the eagle of all winged things,
Who suddenly grips in his talons with far-flying swoop of his wings
His blood-stained quarry. But chattering daws o’er the low grounds hover.
On thee, whom the favour of Klio the splendour-throned doth cover
With glory, because of thy spirit, the athlete-champion’s mind,
From Nemea and Megara light, and from Epidaurus, hath shined.

IV

For Timasarchus of Aegina, a member of the Theandrid House, on his victory in the Boys’ wrestling-match, BC 473 (?). The praises of his uncle Kallikles, and of his trainer, Melesias the Athenian, are also sung.

Strophe 1

When conflict’s bitter strain to its decision
At last attaineth, then the best physician
Is mirth, to close the overtasking day.
And song, the Muses’ child inspired, can lay
On the heart’s wounds her magic hands of healing.
Not steaming baths so softly charm away
The ache of toil, as words of praise outpealing
In unison with the lyre. Man’s speech shall long
Outlast his deeds, what words soe’er the tongue
Hath drawn up, by the Graces’ kind control,
From wells of inspiration in the soul.

Strophe 2

Now be it mine to make such song-oblation,
To Zeus Kronion tendering dedication
Thereof, and Nemea. This my prelude be
To Timasarchus’ wrestling. Be it of thee
Welcomed, O Aiakids’ stronghold goodly-towered,
Beacon of justice, aliens’ sanctuary!
O were thy sire Timokritus yet dowered
With life’s heat by the sun all-quickening,
Oft bending o’er the changeful cithern-string
Would he have waked his music for his son,
And hymned the glorious triumph he hath won,

Strophe 3

Who from Kleonae brought a perfume-streaming
Festoon of wreaths, and one from marble-gleaming
Renownèd Athens; and again beside
Amphitryon’s sepulchre fame-glorified
Old Kadmus’ sons in Thebe seven-gated
Rained on him flowers with welcome kindly-eyed
In whose love is Aegina consecrated;
For thither as a friend to friends he hied,
As doth a ship into a haven glide,
Came to that burg which welcomes aye the guest,
Came to the Hall of Heracles heaven-blest,

Strophe 4

With whom went stalwart Telamon for the smiting
Of Troy, and met the Meropes grim-fighting,
And Alkyoneus the giant did they slay,
A warrior terrible in battle-play;
Yet slew him not till rocks like slingstones whirling
From his hands crushed in shattered disarray
Twelve cars, and hero-riders deathward hurling
Twice twelve he strewed amid that wreck of cars.
Wholly unversed is he in lore of wars
To whose ears never that old saying came,
“Who doeth violence must endure the same.”

Strophe 5

But not for me is legend’s full unfolding,
Who see the law of song mine hand withholding:
Yea, and the hasting hours brook no delay.
A strong spell draws me on to sing the day
Of the New Moon that on those Games was shining.
Though round thee breast-high plash the deep-sea spray,
Stand firm! Strive on ’gainst treacherous foes’ designing!
O’er foes triumphant shall we win the port
In clear day! One of less heroic sort,
With envy evil-eyed, in darkness schemes;
But fruitless to the ground shall fall his dreams.

Strophe 6

But one thing certainly mine heart divineth,
That, whatso excellence Lord Fate designeth
For me, Time’s onward-stealing feet will bring
To its ordained perfection that same thing.
Weave on, O winsome Lyre, make speed in weaving
Thy web of song that shall accordant ring
With Lydian harmony, song-vesture cleaving
Lovingly round Oenone and Cyprus, where,
Far from the ancient home constrained to fare,
An island-king Telamonian Teucer is,
While Aias rules ancestral Salamis;

Strophe 7

And in the Euxine Sea a sunbright island
Achilles rules; and in the Phthian highland
Still Thetis queens it; in the pastures green
Of broad Epirus, where long forelands lean
From oakwoods of Dodona downward trending
To the Ionian sea-gulf’s rippling sheen,
Neoptolemus rules a people cattle-tending.
But the land under Pelion capt with cloud,
Iolkos, was of old to thraldom bowed
When Peleus turned thereon a warring hand,
And to Haimonians gave the traitor’s land;

Strophe 8

Because Akastus, son of Pelias, hearkened
Unto Hippolyte’s counsels treachery-darkened,
From Peleus stole the sword that Daedalus wrought,
And by the ambush of the man-brutes sought
To murder him: howbeit righteous Cheiron
Rescued him, and that destiny he brought
To pass which Fate had framed