Array Anacreon - The Greatest Classics of Ancient Greece

Then in the steely shield swart spiders weave

Their web and dusky woof:

Rust to the pointed spear and sword doth cleave;

The brazen trump sounds no alarms;

Nor is sleep harried from our eyes aloof,

But with sweet rest my bosom warms:

The streets are thronged with lovely men and young,

And hymns in praise of boys like flames to heaven are flung.

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Blue shadows wreathed the galley's prow that bore

Twice seven Attic youth, a glorious train

For Theseus, captain of the brunt of war,

Over the Cretan main.

The North wind filled the shining sails above,

Thanks to the bucklered Goddess of the Fight;

But Minos' heart was sore with pains of Love,

Love brow-bound with delight.

Sweet Eriboea! he refrained no more

His hands, he touched her cheek of virgin white:

" Son of Pandion, save! " Her cries implore The brazen-armoured knight.

Theseus had seen; beneath his frowning brow

Dark rolls the sudden anger of his eyes;

Hard in his heart the stab of grief: " How now! Son of great Zeus ," he cries,

" No more thine unpermitted humour's course Within thyself thou governest aright; Hold, Prince, I charge thee, thy presuming force! Not against Fate we fight:

" All that the God's appointment and decree, All that the scales of Justice shall require, We will fulfil whene'er the hour may be; Stay but thy fell desire.

" What thought the princess of the lovely name Bedded to Zeus in Ida gave thee birth, To be the first of all the world in fame? Am I as nothing worth?

" --I whom the child of treasured Pittheus bare To one whose reign doth all the seas enfold? Nymphs of the deep with violet-coloured hair Gave her a veil of gold .

" Therefore, great Captain of the Cnosian men, Forfend the grievous quarrel! Yon dear light Of day I would not choose to see again, Should'st thou do rude despite

" To one of these:--Oh, better combat's chance-- A challenge!--God shall judge the issue true! " So said the valiant master of the lance: Fear fell on all the crew,

Fear for the overboldness of the man.

Then in his soul the son-in-law of the Sun

Was angry, and he schemed an evil plan,

And prayed, " Most Mighty One ,

" Hear, Father Zeus! If thou'rt my sire indeed, Of the white-wristed Tyrian's child true sire, Give me a visible sign! Send down with speed The lightning's tress of fire!

" Prince, if Troezenian Aethra mothered thee Got by Poseidon, Shaker of the Earth, Cast thyself boldly down into the sea, His home who gave thee birth!

" Fetch me this golden jewel from my hand Out of the deep! Soon shalt thou be aware Whether the Lord of Thunder, whose command Rules all, will hear my prayer. "

Zeus to that high request his ear inclined,

And with peculiar praise to magnify

His son, and give a sign to all mankind,

Did lighten in the sky.

Then at the welcome sign the Warrior-King

Spreading his palms to hallowed heaven-wide,

" Theseus, the grace of God is in this thing "Made manifest, " he cried.

" Go, get thee down into the sounding swell! Surely the God thy father shall upraise In all the wooded earth for thee as well Exceeding glory and praise. "

But Theseus at the word, no whit unmanned,

Turnèd not back in spirit: on deck he stood

Poised for a leap, and passed within the bland

Sanctuary of the flood.

The son of Zeus was merry in his mind;

The tight ship to the breeze he bade them lay;

Fast flew the keel, the strong North drove behind:

But Fate ruled not the way.

All the Athenians trembled when the first

Knight of their number seaward sprang, the tear

Ran down smooth faces, waiting for the worst

In heavy hopeless fear.

But quick the dolphin-people of the deep

Down to his father's vasty dwelling steered;

He saw the state the Gods of Ocean keep,

And at the sight he feared:

The daughters of the blessed Nereus there

Beamed from their radiant limbs a fiery blaze,

Ribbons of golden web reeled round their hair,

All dancing in a maze

Of fluent feet for pleasure; and he saw

His father's wife the Lady Amphitrite,

Eyed like an ox--a Goddess throned for awe

In chambers of delight.

She flung about him purple raiment brave,

Over his curls a perfect wreath she laid,

The wedding-gift that cozening Venus gave,

Thick roses in a braid.

The thing God wills, the wise man never deems

Beyond belief. Close by the slender stern

The Prince appeared, and O the world of schemes

He slit by that return,

Miraculous from the deep! Bright maids arow

Sang for surprise and joy--Upon his limbs

Shone gifts of Gods!--laud sang the lads also--

The sea was loud with hymns.

* * *

We came from Ceos with a song and dance: Lord God of Delos be well pleased this day, Send us the conduct of thy lucky chance To help us on our way.

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As gold the Lydian touch-stone tries,

So man--the virtuous, valiant, wise--

Must to all-powerful Truth submit

His virtue, valour, and his wit.

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The Life and Work of Pindar

Olympic Odes

The First Olympic Ode

The Second Olympic Ode.

The Third Olympic Ode.

The Fourth Olympic Ode.

The Fifth Olympic Ode.

The Sixth Olympic Ode.

The Seventh Olympic Ode.

The Eighth Olympic Ode.

The Ninth Olympic Ode.

The Tenth Olympic Ode.

The Eleventh Olympic Ode.

The Twelfth Olympic Ode.

The Thirteenth Olympic Ode.

The Fourteenth Olympic Ode.

Pythian Odes

The First Pythian Ode.

The Second Pythian Ode.

The Third Pythian Ode.

The Fourth Pythian Ode.

The Fifth Pythian Ode.

The Sixth Pythian Ode

The Seventh Pythian Ode.

The Eighth Pythian Ode.

The Ninth Pythian Ode.

The Tenth Pythian Ode.

The Eleventh Pythian Ode.

The Twelfth Pythian Ode.

Isthmian Odes

The First Isthmian Ode.

The Second Isthmian Ode.

The Third Isthmian Ode.

The Fourth Isthmian Ode.

The Fifth Isthmian Ode.

The Sixth Isthmian Ode.

The Seventh Isthmian Ode.

The Eighth Isthmian Ode.

Nemean Odes

The First Nemean Ode.

The Second Nemean Ode.

The Third Nemean Ode.

The Fourth Nemean Ode.

The Fifth Nemean Ode.

The Sixth Nemean Ode.

The Seventh Nemean Ode.

The Eighth Nemean Ode.

The Ninth Nemean Ode.

The Tenth Nemean Ode.

The Eleventh Nemean Ode.

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PINDAR, "by far the chief of all the lyrists," as Quintilian calls him, was born thirty-four years after Simônides, and survived him about twenty ( 522-448 B.C.). He is the first Greek writer for whose biography we have real documents. Not only are a great many of his extant poems datable, but tradition, which loved him for his grammatical difficulties as well as for his genius, has pre served a pretty good account of his outer circumstances. He was born at the village of Kynoskephalæ, in Bœotia; he was descended from the Ægîdæ, a clan of conquering invaders, probably 'Cadmean,' since the name ' Pindar' is found in Ephesus and Thêra. The country-bred Bœotian boy showed early a genius for music. The lyre, doubtless, he learned as a child: there was one Skopelînus at home, an uncle of the poet, or perhaps his step-father, who could teach him flute-playing. To learn choir-training and systematic music he had to go to Athens, to 'Athênoclês and Apollodôrus.' Tradition insisted on knowing something about his relation to the celebrities of the time. He was taught by Lasus of Hermionê; beaten in competition by his country-woman Corinna, though some extant lines of that poetess make against the story: "I praise not the gracious Myrtis, not I, for coming to contest with Pindar, a woman born!" And another anecdote only makes Corinna give him good advice -- "to sow with the hand, not with the whole sack," when he was too profuse in his mythological ornaments.