diverse boons to diverse men be given,
And many paths to happiness ascend
By grace of Heaven.
Timosthenes, to Zeus, who hath in keeping
Thine house, thee and thy brother Destiny
Allotted: He at Nemea honoured thee,
And Kronos’ Hill saw glory’s harvest-reaping,
Alkimedon’s Olympian victory.
Goodly of presence, not by deeds he shamed
His beauty! He, in wresthng-bout victorious,
Aegina of far-sweeping oars proclaimed
His home. There Saviour Themis, throned all-glorious
With Guest-ward Zeus, is most with honour named.
Far-reaching issues, whose decision still
Shifteth, with mind unwarped to judge of these
Fairly, is hard: yet sure the Immortals’ will
Ordained this island rampired by the seas
To be for strangers out of every clime
A god-reared pillar of strength, land of the free—
Oh may the years in this work through all time
Toil tirelessly!—
This isle committed unto Dorian hands
To be Heaven’s stewards, since, in Aiakus’ days,
When Phoebus and the Girder of all lands
A tower-coronal for Troy would raise,
And as their fellow-builder bade him come
To rear that wall, which should, when wars awoke,
Breathe out, when battle brought her day of doom,
Wild-billowing smoke.
Scarce was it built, when, with eyes lurid-glaring,
Three dragons leapt to scale its ramparts high.
Now twain of these fell back, and suddenly
Died, writhing as in impotent despairing:
But the third leapt in with fierce battle-cry.
That portent Phoebus pondered; then spake he:
“Aiakus, where thine hands reared this stone wonder,
There breached and taken Pergamus shall be,
As this sign sent down by the Lord of Thunder,
Zeus, Kronos’ Son, revealeth unto me.
“This shall thine house accomplish. Troy shall fall
Stormed by thy son and thy fourth in descent.”
So plainly spake the God, and therewithal
To Xanthus and the fleet-horsed Amazons went,
And unto Ister speeding fast his car.
With golden team the Trident-wielder fares
To Isthmus oversea, and Aiakus far
To Aegina bears.
Thence, to behold his glorious festival,
To Corinth’s mountain-ridge he bore him on.
No praise of song is sweet alike to all:
If I retrace all fame Melesias11 won
Through boys, no stone at me let envy fling!
I sing of honours no less high attained
At Nemea, and of crowns pankratian sing
By his men gained.
To teach is no hard task for him who knoweth;
But who unlearned would teach, a fool is he,
For wit untrained hath no stability.
But this Melesias best of all men showeth
How with the strong to strive victoriously,
Teacheth what training shall to triumph guide
Our champion to repeat the oft-told story,
In those great Games, of longed-for victory’s pride.
Now hath Alkimedon achieved that glory—
Melesias’ thirtieth triumph published wide!
By God’s grace, and by his own prowess he
Hath vanquished striplings four. Ha! not for him,
But them, to steal back home shamefacedly
Shrinking from taunting tongues through bypaths dim!
His victory hath thrilled his old grandsire
With strength that o’er eld’s frailty triumpheth.
For he that hath attained his heart’s desire
Forgetteth death.
I must awaken Memory, I wis,
To tell the glory of old champions’ might,
The Blepsiads’ conquering sons: the sixth crown this
That wreathes their brows from those games garland-dight.
Yea, their dead fathers have their share therein,
When due memorial rites are not forgot.
The grace of honour living kinsmen win
The dust hides not.
The song by Hermes’ child, Glad-tidings, chanted
Shall Iphion hear, his bright Olympic fame,
And to Kallimachus shall tell the same,12
The glory Zeus to this old House hath granted.
With triumph on triumph may he crown their name,
And aye avert affliction’s bitter blow!
And, for the glory in their lot, may never
God’s jealousy make Nemesis their foe.
May he exalt them and their country, ever
Vouchsafing them a life unvexed of woe.
IX
For Ephannostus of Opus, in Eastern Locris, on his victory in wrestling, 468 BC.
Archilochus’ chant of the sweet voice singing
The Olympian hymn of victory,13
With its threefold measure of triumph outringing,
Sufficed to lead onward the revelry
To the Hill of Kronos, as paced along
Epharmostus amidst of his comrade-throng.
But now with such soul-stirring arrows of song
As in these our days fly fittingly
Shot from the Muses’ bows far-ranging,
Sing praises, my soul, unto Zeus, whose hand
Hurls red-glowing lightnings sin-avenging;
And the holy foreland of Elis-land
Praise thou, the land which long agone
Pelops the hero, Lydia’s son,
With Hippodameia for dowry won,
The glorious clasp of her wedlock-band.
And a sweet feathered shaft on the bowstring laying
Pytho-ward shoot thou: not to the ground
Shall thy words fall, when thy fingers are straying
O’er the quivering strings of the lyre, to sound
The praise of a lord of the wrestling-ring
Who from Opus the famed came journeying;
And the glory of that good town do thou sing
And the praise of her champion triumph-crowned.
’Tis a city that Themis and Safety-bestower,
Her child Fair Governance, won for their own;
And in knightly deeds she blooms as a bower;
For by Castaly’s fountain her praise is known,
And Alpheus murmureth her renown,
Where blow fair flowers for victory’s crown
To shine on the brows of the mother-town
Of Lokris, with trees girt stately-grown.
The light of my song shall fierily blaze
O’er this city so dear unto me,
And swifter than high-mettled steed can race
Or a white-winged galley can flee,
I will speed this story of Opus’ glory
Far, far over land, over sea,
If by Destiny guided my hand essay
To gather fruit and flower
In the Graces’ garden of gardens, for they
All things delightsome shower.
Whether hero or poet one be, he doth owe it
To Heaven’s all-gracious power.
How else could Heracles’ arm have wielded
Mace against Trident in battle-strain?—
When by Poseidon was Pylos shielded,
And the Sea-god pressed on the Hero amain,
When fast did the arrows of Phoebus fly
As the silver bow rang terribly,
Neither Hades refrained him from swinging on high
His staff, till his blows flashed down like rain—
The staff wherewithal through the
