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SELECTIONS 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 CHORIC POETRY 
 
 GREEK DRAMATIC WRITERS. 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE, 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 J. ANSTICE, B. A. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL LITERATURE AT KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON, 
 AND LATE STUDENT OF CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 B. FELLOWES, LUDGATE STREET. 
 
 1832. 
 
^ 
 
 ^v 
 
 R, CT.AY, PRINTER, BREA D-STREET-HII.L. 
 
.ESCH. A GAM. 40. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 \ 
 The capture of Troy having been announced by beacons to 1 
 Clytaemnestra at Argos, she commands offerings to be made 
 on the altars of all the Gods. The Chorus, consisting of 
 Argive old men, still ignorant of the cause of these offer- 
 ings, describe the departure of the Grecian armament, 
 and affirm the inevitable certainty of Divine Retribution : 
 they lament their own unfitness for war ; inquire the mean- 
 ing of the sacrificial fires which are kindled ; detail the 
 ominous appearance of two Eagles to the Atridse, and the 
 interpretation of it given by Calchas, who predicted the 
 ultimate success of the expedition ; but warned the chief- 
 tains that they would be exposed to the wrath of Diana. 
 They address Jove, and reflect on the necessity of moral 
 discipline ; relate the detention of the Fleet at Aulis, and 
 the consequent sacrifice of Iphigenia by Agamemnon; 
 and conclude by expressing their determination to leave to 
 Heaven the direction of the event. 
 
/ESCH. A GAM. 40. 
 
 Nine weary years are more than spent, 
 Since royal Menelaus went, 
 On fatal suit with Priam bent, 
 And Agamemnon's armament 
 
 Joined to redress his wrong ; 
 Atridae both, and each a King 
 From Jove his throne inheriting, 
 A thousand proud ships mustering, 
 
 They led the martial throng : 
 Screaming havoc from afar, 
 Eager flew the chiefs to war. 
 
 So, when bereaved the vultures ply 
 Their oary x wings athwart the sky, 
 
 ( l ) The different nautical systems of the ancients and moderns 
 have caused a difference in their expressions, when a body passing 
 through the air is compared to a vessel cleaving the water. Among 
 the ancients, the motion of the wings of a bird is illustrated in 
 general by that of oars ; while modern poets generally liken it to 
 that of sails. Thus Spenser, Faery Queene, I. xi. 10. 
 
 " His nagging wings when forth he did display, 
 Were like two sails." 
 
 b 2 And 
 
* .ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Is heard beneath their piercing cry, 
 In circles wheeling as they fly 2 
 
 Their nest above, 
 Where, till the plunderer dared intrude, 
 They watched and fed their callow brood 
 
 In patient love. 
 Those shrilly shrieks of bitter wail 
 With Phcebus, Pan, or Jove prevail ; 
 The avenging Fury forth they send, 
 Those exiled nestlings to befriend, 
 True to redress the orphan's wrong, 
 Retributive at length, though haply lingering long. 3 
 
 And Milton : 
 
 " A fiery globe 
 
 Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 
 Who on their plumy vans received him soft." 
 Par. Reg. IV. 581. 
 ( 2 ) " The wheeling Kite's wild, solitary cry." 
 
 Keble's Christian Year. 
 Compare the following Extract from an Ornithological Tour to 
 the Islands of Shetland and Orkney (Magazine of Natural History, 
 May 1831) : 
 
 " There are, however, a pair or two of the peregrine falcon 
 that repair annually to the island for the purpose of breeding ; 
 building in the most inaccessible places, which are only to be 
 gained by the best and ablest rocksmen ; and even then it is very 
 uncertain if the nest can be discovered ; the old bird always taking 
 flight upon the first appearance of danger, and wheeling in circles 
 over the fowler's head, uttering at intervals the peculiar cry of the 
 falcon tribe, which she continues to do until he leaves the crags." 
 
 ( 3 ) Compare the ancient proverb, " The mill of God grinds late, 
 but grinds to powder ;" and the well-known lines of Horace, 
 " Raro antecedentem scelestum 
 Deseruit pede Poena Claudo."— Carm. III. 2. 31. 
 
 The 
 
MUCH. AG AM. 
 
 Thus Jove, whose guardian eye on earth 
 Protects the hospitable hearth, 
 The crime of Paris to pursue, 
 Hath bid the Atridae lead their crew : 
 And, while they claim, mid war's alarms, 
 A faithless woman's oft-wooed charms, 
 To either troop his laws ordain 
 Wrestlings and weariness and pain, 
 The toil-bowed limb, the shivered lance, 
 When warriors to the charge advance, 
 Or rest, to stem the foeman's thrust, 
 Their fainting knees in Trojan dust. 
 
 The flying sinner, doomed to woe, 
 
 The Fury still can trace ; 
 Though limping be her step and slow, 
 She will not quit the chase. 
 See also a very curious passage in the Choephorae of iEschylus, 
 which would be still more valuable if the proper reading could be 
 throughout accurately ascertained: that here given is Professor 
 Scholefield's, which is however by no means satisfactory. 
 
 e0t7e 5' iv imix% X f P 0S ^t^tv/xos 
 Albs Kopa — Ai/cow 8e viv 
 
 irpo(Tayopevo/u.€i/ 
 fiporol rvxovres KaAws — 
 6\e6piov irveovs* ev ixdpois kotou' 
 Toivirep b Aortas, 6 TIapvdaios, 
 fxeyav ex wv H- V X^ V X6° V0S > ^X^P°^ vat/ > 
 a8oAu)s doAiav, 
 fihaTrTOfAtvau, XP° VI<T ~ 
 Qe7(ruv, eiroixcTCH. 
 
 Kpa.TSlTO.1 7TC0S TO QtlOV TTapOL TO flT) 
 
 virovpyeiv KO.KOIS. 
 
 Daughter of Jove, with certain hand, 
 Fell Justice wields the fatal brand ; 
 
 (Such 
 
b /ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 The present hour alone we see, 
 The future's shaped by Fate's decree. 
 Ye in secret tears may pine, 
 
 Vain the suppliant sob of grief ; 
 Ye may pour the sparkling wine, 
 Shall libations yield relief? 
 Not thus appeased the anger dies, 
 That waits on slighted sacrifice. 4 
 
 Withered age was little prized ; 
 Chiefs our worthless aid despised ; 
 All unmeet for warlike toil, 
 We were left on Argive soil, 
 
 (Such title meet by men is given, 
 To designate that maid of heaven) 
 Upon her foes her blasting breath 
 She sheds, the minister of death. 
 The God, whose steps Parnassus bless, 
 Or tread the mighty cave's recess, 
 
 Bids her go forth to slay ; 
 Limping and lingering long, but sure, 
 And wily, though for purpose pure ; 
 Not hospitality can lure 
 
 The huntress from her prey. 
 E'en the Divinity we find 
 Compelled by strange, superior sway, 
 Mysterious mandates, that can bind 
 E'en Gods to own them and obey. 
 They dare not sinners to befriend, 
 Nor sheltering aid to foul transgressors lend. 
 ( 4 ) This interpretation seems sufficiently established by the Bishop 
 of London ; that adopted by Professor Scholefield and some other 
 commentators may be thus rendered : 
 
 Not thus are soothed the sisters dire, 
 Whose altars never gleam with fire. 
 
.ESCH. agam. / 
 
 There, with feebleness opprest, 
 On the friendly staff to rest. 
 Childhood's strength alone is ours ; 
 Ere expand the youthful powers, 
 Shrined within the bosom's cell 
 Mars will never deign to dwell. 
 When the leaf of life is sere, 5 
 Age as weakly wields the spear, 
 
 < 5 ) " My way of life 
 
 Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf." 
 
 Shakspeare. Macbeth. 
 " What cold again is able to restore 
 My fresh greene yeares, that wither thus and fade ? " 
 
 Lord Surrey. 
 As the decline of life is here compared to the withering of the 
 leaf in autumn, so in Homer is the passing away of generations to 
 its fall in winter : 
 
 0177 7re P (pvKkbiv yever], rotrjSe kuX avdpuu. 
 cpvWa ra fjLev t aue/mos xajUoSts x e6 '> a\ha Se 6' vXrj 
 Tr]\e06(i)CFa <pvei* eapos 6° imyiyveTai ftpy. 
 &s audpwv yeverj, 77 fxhv (pvei, t) 8' d7roA?J7et. 
 As that of leaves upon the tree, 
 Such is thy course, Humanity ! 
 The leaves — on earth the blast strews some, — 
 The budding wood bids others come ; 
 New life the spring-tide hour supplies, 
 And sees a second race arise : 
 So are man's generations fleeting, 
 And one is born, while one's retreating. 
 The same simile occurs in the following passage from the Medita- 
 tions Poetiques of Lamartine : 
 
 " Mais toujours repasser par une meme route, 
 Voir ses jours epuises s'ecouler goutte a goutte; 
 Mais suivre pas a pas dans l'immense troupeau, 
 Ces generations, inutile fardeau, 
 Qui meurent pour mourir, qui vecurent pour vivre, 
 Et dont chaque printems la terre se delivre, 
 
 Comme 
 
,ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Age, no more in battle strong, 
 Creeps on borrowed stay along, 6 
 
 Comme dans nos forets, le chene avec mepris, 
 Livre aux vents des hivers ses feuillages fletris ; 
 Sans regrets, sans espoir, avancer dans la vie, 
 Comme un vaisseau qui dort sur une onde assoupie ; 
 Sentir son ame usee en impuissant effort, 
 Se ronger lentement sous la rouille du sort ; 
 Penser sans decouvrir, aspirer sans atteindre, 
 Briller sans eclairer, et palir sans s'eteindre r 
 H^las ! tel est mon sort et celui des humains." 
 
 Along the self-same track for aye to stray, 
 To see one's days waste drop by drop away, 
 To follow, step by step, the countless train 
 Of generations burdening earth in vain, 
 Who live but to exist, who die to rest, 
 Of whom, each spring, earth rids her weary breast, 
 E'en as the forest oak disdainful casts 
 His withered foliage to the wintry blasts, 
 Onward without regret or hope to creep, 
 Like vessel slumbering on a drowsy deep, 
 To feel one's spirit toil, yet nought advance, 
 Corroded slowly by the rust of chance, 
 Muse, but not solve, aspire, but ever fail, 
 A ray not clear when bright, nor quenched though pale, — 
 This lot, not I alone, but all mankind must wail. 
 
 ( 6 ) Literally, " on three feet/' So Sackville, in his description 
 of old age : 
 
 " Crooke-backt he was, tooth-shaken and blear-eyed, 
 Went on three feet, and sometimes crept on fower — " 
 
 Induction to the Mirror of Magistrates. 
 
 The allusion is to the riddle proposed by the Sphynx to the inha- 
 bitants of Thebes, and solved by CEdipus : 
 
 ^Eort Siirovv eVt yrjs ku\ virpamov, ov /xiu (pcav}), 
 nal rpiirov' aWaaaei Se (pvty fiovov, '6aa eVi ycuav 
 epirera Kiveirai, avd r aldepa kcu Kara ttovtov. 
 aAA' biroruv irteiffrouriv iireiyojJLei'oi' iroal Qaivr), 
 ivQu. rdxos yvloiaiv a<pavpoTwrov ir4\€i auToD. 
 
 There 
 
.ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Doting in its last decay, 
 
 Shadowy dream that stalks by day. 7 
 
 There is a creature, wont to go 
 
 Upon four feet, and three, and two, 
 
 Its cry in every state the same. 
 
 Can earth, or air, or ocean name, 
 
 From every kind that through them ranges, 
 
 A single one that, like this, changes 1 
 
 To make the prodigy complete, 
 
 'Tis slowest when it has most feet. 
 
 THE ANSWER. 
 
 KKvOl, Kal ovk ideXovcra, Kanoirrepe Movcra Qavovrwv, 
 
 (pcourjs rjfxerepris gov rehos a/j.irAaKtr}S. 
 IxvOpwirov /caTe\e£as, os, r\viKa. ya?uv icpepirei, 
 
 trpSnov ecpv rerpdirovs vr\inos e/c XayovwV 
 yripaAeos 5e ireXcap, rpiraTov 7ro5a, Pdicrpov epet5e<, 
 
 avx^va (popTlfav, yf)pu'C Kafi-KTo^vos. 
 
 List, Muse of evil pinion, 
 
 Unwilling, while I tell, 
 That fallen is thy dominion ; 
 
 I can thy riddle spell. 
 On man thy mind was musing, 
 
 Who, ere erect he stands, 
 Crawls on earth's bosom, using 
 
 As feet his tiny hands. 
 Age, bowed with years and sorrows, 
 
 His limbs on staff must stay ; 
 Another foot he borrows 
 
 To aid him on his way. 
 
 ( 7 ) In Eurip. Phcen. 1531. GEdipus replies to Antigone ; 
 
 Tt (x, w irapdive, PaKTpevfiao't tv- 
 
 (pAov iroBos ££dyayes ets cpcos 
 
 \€XVPV o~Korici)V e/c Qakd[xo)v 
 
 omrpoTdroicriu dafcpvoHrtv, 
 
 ttoXiov alOepos t v a.<pav\s s1Z<a\ov, rj. 
 
 vzkvv ZvepQsv, % 
 
 tttuvov ovtipov ;. 
 
 Why 
 
10 ,£SCH. agam. 
 
 Say, Clytaemnestra, wherefore thus, 
 Thou queenly child of Tyndarus, 
 Moved by what recent voice of fame, 
 Thy Heralds bid the altars flame ? 
 On every shrine their gifts bestow 
 Of Gods above us and below, 
 Who dwell beyond our mortal ken, 
 Or mingle in the haunts of men, 
 And ever stretch their sheltering arm, 
 Our city to protect from harm ? 
 From each to each the signal spreads, 
 The welkin flashes o'er our heads 
 
 With fires that mount in turn ; 
 Long hath in regal cells been stored 
 The incense pure, now gently poured, 
 
 To bid them clearly burn. 
 Oh ! if thou mayst the tale declare, 
 Why thus the kindled altars glare, 
 
 Restore my soul to rest ; 
 Now bodes it ill, now Hope's fond smile 
 Bids heart-corroding cares awhile 
 
 Be banished from my breast. 
 
 Why hast thou called me forth to day, 
 While ill these darkling steps I stay? 
 Why summoned me, with wail of woe, 
 From murky cell and pallet low ? 
 With time and grief my hair is white; 
 Like airy ghost that mocks the sight 
 This weary, withered form must seem, 
 Or pallid corpse, or winged dream. 
 
.ESCH\ AGAM. 11 
 
 List, while the favouring sign I tell, 
 That erst our journeying host befell, 
 
 Its leaders sent to cheer ; 
 For still my years can strength supply 
 For breath of heaven-taught poesy, 
 
 Congenial art and dear. 
 
 Severed in empire, one in soul, 
 
 And swaying Greece with joint controul, 
 
 Forth are the Atridae gone ; 
 And many a spear and hand of might 
 Is marshalled with them for the fight; 
 
 Nor these are there alone; 
 The bird is nigh of rapid pinion, 
 The Eagle, 8 to whose proud dominion 
 
 Quail all the fowls that fly; 
 
 ( s ) In Chaucer's Assembly of Fowls, the Goddess Nature, in 
 addressing the birds, speaks of 
 
 " The tercell Egle, as ye know full well, 
 The foule royall, above you all in degre." 
 
 See also Massinger : 
 
 " Queen of the inhabitants of the air, 
 The Eagle that bears thunder on her wings." 
 
 Great Duke of Florence. Act IV. Sc. 2. 
 
 In Dunbar's Rose and Thistle, Kind or Nature is represented 
 as crowning the Eagle, King of Birds. 
 
 The origin of the supremacy of the Eagle is thus related by 
 Myro.— (Ed. Giles.) 
 
 Zeus 5' ap evl Kprjrr] rpecpero [J.4yas, ovd' apa rts viv 
 
 r}7]8ei ixuKapooi/' 6 §' ae£eTO Tract iWeAetrcri, 
 
 rbv uhv apa rpyponves vtto ^aOew rpecpov avrpw, 
 
 afiPpoatai' 
 
12 ^ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Before the rulers of the fleet 
 Conspicuous sit, an emblem meet, 
 
 Twin rulers of the sky. 
 One is jet black; — a circlet pale 
 Surrounds his fellow's spreading tail 
 
 With plumes of silvery hue ; 
 Their prey between their claws they tear, 
 The quarry is a pregnant hare, 
 
 That, as it ran, they slew ; 
 And many a mangled young one died, 
 Torn from its teeming mother's side : 
 
 a/xfipoalav (popiovffai an 'tiiceavolo pouwv. 
 vetcrap 5' e/c irerpas p.£yas alerbs aikv acpvaffoov, 
 ya/JLcprjArj (popeeffKe irorbv Ait firfTioevTi. 
 rbv kcu, vucr)(ras irarepa Kpovov, evpvoira Zeus 
 aQ6.va.TOV Tro'iyae, kcu ovpavc? iyKarevucrffeV 
 wj 5' avrws rprjpoocri ireXeidcriv tiiraae rifxav, 
 at 5^ toi depeos Kal xelfxaros ayyeXoi elffi. 
 
 Within the Cretan cavern's shade 
 The infant heir of heaven was laid; 
 
 No God the secret knew; 
 There waxed in strength each hoyish limb ; 
 From ocean's streams, the doves for him 
 
 With sweet ambrosia flew. 
 The mighty eagle nectar quaffed 
 From some tall cliff, and bore the draught) 
 
 His vigour to renew. 
 When Saturn fell, on that proud bird 
 Jove immortality conferred, 
 
 And to the skies translated; 
 The doves, though still confined below, 
 
 His heralds he created; 
 And bade them by their wanderings show 
 
 Whence seasons should be dated. 
 
^ESCH. AGAM. 13 
 
 Hard by the halls of regal state, 
 Upon the spear- hand perched they wait. 
 Greece awhile must weep and wail ; 9 
 May the right at last prevail ! 
 The Seer upon the Atridse turns ; 
 With glance prophetic he discerns 
 
 The vision's import clear ; 
 The Eagles, by their varying tint, 
 He deems of either chieftain hint 
 
 The different character. 
 Then thus he speaks : " The host you lead 
 " Shall against Priam's town succeed, 
 
 " In heaven's appointed hour; 
 
 ( 9 ) In the original it is, " Sing ah ! Linus ! ah ! Linus ! but may 
 the good prevail." Linus is said to have been a son of Urania, 
 who was torn in pieces by shepherds' dogs ; his fate was a 
 constant theme of lamentation ; and the expression atXtvov, 
 aiXivou, Ah ! Linus ! ah ! Linus ! which was probably the burden 
 of his dirge, was used proverbially to designate any melancholy 
 song. He is mentioned in a fragment of Hesiod : 
 
 Ovpuvit] y dp' €tikt€ Aivov iroXvrjparov vlov, 
 ov 877 '6<roi (ipoTot elcriv aoidol kcu KiOapicrral 
 iravres fxkv dpT]vov(Tiv iv slXairivcus re x n P°? s Te > 
 apx6/J.€yoL 5e Aiuov kcu X^yovres KaXeovai. 
 
 On Linus erst Urania smiled, 
 Fair mother of a lovely child ; 
 But now alone to him belong 
 The bard's lament, the minstrel's song; 
 Where dance and feast are sparkling gay, 
 His is the melancholy lay ; 
 Ere they begin, and when they close, 
 They call on Linus' name, they tell of Linus' woes. 
 
14 iESCH. AGAM. 
 
 " But first must Fate the treasures drain, 
 " Now stored throughout your rich domain 
 
 "In many an ancient tower. 
 " Yet tremble, lest some God should frown, 
 " While on your army gazing down ; 
 
 " For scarce may Dian love, 
 " Though Ilion's curb, the proud array 
 " Of those whose types are birds of prey, 
 
 " The winged hounds of Jove ; 
 " She for the timid hare will mourn, 
 " Slain with its litter yet unborn ; 
 " She guards the offspring of the wood, 
 " She loathes the Eagle's feast of blood. 
 " Greece awhile must weep and wail ; 
 " May the right at last prevail. 
 " Since fair Diana lends her help, 
 " To shield the Lion's tender whelp, 
 
 " The suckling cub to save ; 
 " Since all she tends with fostering care, 
 " That make amid the fields their lair, 
 
 " Meekly her pardon crave ! 
 " May she avert whate'er of ill 
 " Those birds forebode ! — may she fulfil 
 
 " The blessings they portend ! 
 " Apollo! let thine accents plead, 
 " And with thy sister intercede 
 
 "No adverse blast to send. 
 " I tremble, lest her wrath detain 
 " Our fleet from bounding o'er the main, 
 
ESCIL AGAM. 15 
 
 " And lawless sacrifice ordain, 
 " Not for the festal banquet slain, 
 
 " But fraught with other doom, 
 " Artificer of kindred strife, 
 " And severing from her Lord the wife, 
 
 " And bidding Vengeance come. 
 " Wrath for a slaughtered child shall yearn, 
 
 " And mindful still, in after time, 
 " Rebounding, shall destroy in turn 
 
 " The author of the crime; 
 " And, Mistress of the dome, prepare 
 To quench her fierce desire, to lay her deep- 
 planned snare 1 " 
 
 Such the ills by Fate foreshown, 
 From its winged heralds known, 
 Doomed in future hour to fall, 
 Argos, on thy monarch's hall, 
 Mixed with blessings' choicest store, 
 Calchas prophesied of yore. 
 We his fears and hopes will share, 
 Pour the dirge, yet breathe the prayer, 
 " Greece awhile must weep and wail ; 
 " May the right at last prevail." 
 
 Jove ! the race that dwell below, 
 Little of thy nature know ; 
 Yet if thou wilt list to us, 
 Willing that we name thee thus, 
 
16 .ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Soothe my soul, that, pondering well, 
 Deems that none save thee can tell, 
 If securely it may throw 
 From its thoughts the load of woe. 
 He 10 , whose emblem well might be 
 Springing fount, or budding tree, 
 
 ( ,0 ) This is not the only passage in iEschylus, in which he refers 
 to the dynasties which had preceded that of Jove ; in the Pro- 
 metheus, the hero replies to Mercury, who had been sent to him 
 from Jove : 
 
 Neov veoi Kparetre, /ecu §o/ce?T6 877 
 
 valeiv airevdrj Trepyafi ' ouk 4k roovS' iyk 
 
 Sicrcrovs rvpdvvovs e/CTrecrcWas ^crdofMrfu ; 
 
 rpirov Se tov vvv Koipavovvr iirorpoixou 
 
 atax^crra ical tox'ctto. 
 
 Youthful, and young in power, ye think forsooth 
 
 To dwell unscathed within heaven's battlements ; 
 
 Have I not seen two Tyrants thence cast down ? 
 
 I shall behold the third, who now is Lord, 
 
 Meet with a quicker and a fouler fall ! 
 It seems universally allowed, that the dynasty immediately pre- 
 ceding that of Jove, was Saturn's : who was expelled by Saturn is 
 a point less agreed on ; some say that Uranus and Ge (Heaven 
 and Earth) first ruled ; others ascribe original dominion to Ophion 
 and Eurynome ; in allusion to this tradition, Milton says of the 
 fallen Angels : 
 
 " Some tradition they dispersed 
 
 Among the heathen, of their purchase got, 
 
 And fabled how the Serpent, whom they call 
 
 Ophion, with Eurynome, the wide 
 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
 
 Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven, 
 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictcean Jove was born." 
 
 Par. Lost. X. 578, 
 This is the Mythology of Apollonius Ithodius : 
 v HetSei/ S 3 ods irp&TOv 'Ocplav Evpwo/XT] re 
 
 'Djceavls VKpoevros %X (,V xparos OvAvfnroio. 
 
/ESCH. AGAM. 17 
 
 Bold in battle, Lord of Heaven, 
 From his starry throne was driven : 
 Once he was ; now past away, 
 Hushed his boast, and sunk his sway. 
 He, who next on high was set, 
 Found a rival stronger yet ; 
 In the wrestling overthrown 
 Saturn's dynasty is gone. 
 Wisest he, who hymns to thee, 
 Jove, the song of victory ! 
 Thou to Wisdom's fair abode 
 Leadest man thy rugged road, 
 Till he own thy wholesome rule : 
 All must learn in suffering's school. 
 
 fiJcrre fitrj kcu xepcrli/, 6 j.i\v Kpovcp et/ca0e Tifirjs, 
 T] Be Vey' Zirecrov 8' eVi Kvjxaaiv 'Clueavolo. 
 oi Se reus [laKapeaai 8eo7s TiTrjaiv avacrcrov, 
 6<ppa Zeus en Kovpos eVi (ppeal vijiria etScbs 
 Aiktcuov vaUcrKeu viro aireos. 
 
 First (they sung) Ophion's own 
 Was Olympus' starry throne; 
 Daughter of the azure sea, 
 Shared his sway Eurynome : 
 He to Saturn quailed in fight; 
 She acknowledged Rhea's might ; 
 Ocean to the vanquished gave 
 Refuge underneath his wave. 
 To the victor's bidding proud, 
 Titans, happy spirits, bowed; 
 'Neath Dictoean cavern's shade, 
 Jove, an infant yet, was laid, 
 Ere his childhood caught the gleam 
 Of Ambition's after-dream. 
 
18 JESCH. AGAM. 
 
 E'en in sleep, pangs felt before, 
 Treasured long in memory's store, 
 Bring in visions back their pain, 
 Melt into the heart again, 
 By its crossed affections taught 
 Chastened will and sobered thought : 
 Thus is man, by sorrow's rod, 
 Forced to bow his pride to God. 
 
 The Leader of the Grecian fleet, 
 
 Thus by experience taught, resigned 
 His will to Fortune's stroke unkind, 
 
 Nor blamed the prescient Sage ; 
 With Fate unable to compete, 
 
 He calmed his stormy rage : 
 While, gazing oft where Chalcis stood 
 Across the frequent-ebbing flood, 
 
 The host in Aulis lay : 
 Ignoble leisure loathed the brave ; 
 Keen blew those blasts from Strymon's wave, 
 
 That sailors oft dismay, 
 That drive the ship from port afar, 
 Nor leave unscathed or rope or spar : 
 With these pale Famine joined to mar 
 The wasting flower of Grecian war. 
 
 But when by that reluctant Seer, 
 
 Who pleaded Dian's will, 
 
 Was taught the remedy of ill 
 More than that ill severe, 
 
jesch. A6AM. 19 
 
 The Atridae heard the fatal sound ; 
 They struck their sceptres on the ground, 
 The tears they laboured to restrain ~\ 
 
 Gushed forth, and told each hero's pain. > 
 First spake the elder of the twain : 
 " An evil lot is mine to choose, 
 " Hard fate obedience to refuse, 
 
 " Hard fate to slay my child, 
 " My home's bright ornament and pride ; 
 " 'Twere hard if at the altar's side 
 " A Father's hand were crimson dyed, 
 
 " With virgin gore defiled : 
 " Still, to whichever part I lean, 
 " Is sorrow's threatening aspect seen ! 
 " How may I leave my true allies ? 
 
 " How quit the host I lead ? 
 " To lay the storm, and calm the skies, 
 " They well may claim the sacrifice ; 
 
 " They well may bid her bleed ! " 
 He spoke: — to heaven's control he bowed, 
 Like veering wind, his spirit proud, 
 Soon as fate's harness he had donned, 
 Was instant changed to fierce from fond; 
 Nor more from passion's blast secure 
 Was all that's holy, all that's pure. 
 The heart, once plotting foul offence, 
 
 Once lent to evil rede, 
 Soon gathers frantic confidence, 
 
 Soon ventures desperate deed: 
 c 2 
 
20 MSCH. AG AM. 
 
 Reason to wildest zeal gave way ; 
 
 He summoned strength his child to slay. 
 
 Victim, to loose his fleet, and aid 
 
 War to avenge a woman made. 
 
 Her piteous cries, her tender age, 
 
 In love with war those chieftains sage 
 
 But lightly recked of there ; 
 Her father's self but little heeded 
 His own dear name, so softly pleaded, 
 But bade them breathe the prayer. 
 Like kid they lift her from the ground, 
 Her form in flowing drapery wound, 
 Her head declining : 
 Her features fair around 
 In haste the bands they bound, 
 Tightened to curb the sound 
 Of words repining, 
 To bar the bitter thought's egress 
 From lips the seat of loveliness, 
 Lest from her frantic grief should fall 
 A curse upon her Father's hall. 
 Her veil, in saffron-coloured flow, 11 
 Trailing swept the plain below : 
 
 ( u ) If Professor Scbolefield's interpretation be adopted, tli 
 original may be tbus rendered : 
 
 . Then while the gory drops distain 
 With purple dye the verdant plain. 
 
ESCII. AG AM. * J 1 
 
 Her pleading eyes shot Pity's dart, 12 
 To rankle in each murderer's heart, 
 Like form by painter's fancy dreamed, 13 
 So pale, so fair, so still she seemed. 
 She longed to speak — for well she knew 
 
 Those warriors standing by, 
 For them, in days of brighter hue, 
 
 She 'd breathed sweet melody. 
 Oft when she saw the brave resort, 
 And crowd her Father's princely court, 
 When the third cup at festal board l4 
 Was crowned to smiling Fortune's lord, 
 (Since even bashful maiden may 
 Breathe pure affection's simple lay,) 
 She loved her Sire to greet with song, 
 And honour mid the reveller's throng. 
 
 ( la ) So Milton : 
 
 " And from about her shot darts of desire 
 Into all eyes." 
 
 Par. Lost. VIII. 62. 
 ( 13 ) Compare the description of Constance in Marmion : 
 " And there she stood so calm and pale, 
 That, but her breathing did not fail, 
 And motion slight of eye and head, 
 And of her bosom, warranted 
 That neither sense nor pulse she lacks, 
 You might have thought a form of wax, 
 Wrought to the very life, were there, 
 So still she was, so pale, so fair." 
 ( u ) The third libation was always offered to Jupiter Soter, and 
 was an acknowledgment of prosperity, which was considered as a 
 boon resulting from his protection. 
 
5 iESCH. AGAM. 
 
 What followed then I never saw ; 
 
 Not mine to tell the tale : 
 Yet may not Fate's unerring law, 
 
 By Calchas uttered, fail. 
 This just decree alone I know ; 
 Man must be disciplined by woe. 
 To me, whatever of good or ill 
 The future brings, since come it will, 
 I'll bow my spirit, and be still. 
 For why should I forestall my doom, 
 And mourn o'er sorrows yet to come ? 
 At length, by Fate's fulfilment, clear 
 Shall those prophetic words appear: 
 Till then, while singly thus we stand, 
 The bulwark of our Apian land, 
 Still shall my prayers to heaven ascend, 
 That doubt in happiness may end. 
 
yESCH. A GAM. 346. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus, now assured of the capture of Troy, return 
 thanks to Jove for having avenged the guilt of Paris, and 
 affirm that punishment is always consequent on crime; 
 they relate the departure of Helen, and the song of the 
 minstrels on her flight, depicting the grief of Menelaus ; — 
 describe the sorrows which had been caused throughout 
 Greece by the loss of heroes in the Trojan War, and the 
 ill-will thence resulting against the Atridae, of whose fall 
 they express themselves apprehensive, inasmuch as they 
 had caused the slaughter of many, thereby provoking the 
 anger of the Gods. They conclude with a prayer that their 
 own condition in life may be neither so high as to excite 
 envy, nor so abject as to be exposed to insult. 
 
^SCH. AGAM. 346. 
 
 Praise to thee, eternal King ! 
 Thus thy grateful votaries sing. 
 And thou, blest Night, whose net was flung 
 O'er Ilion's towers, while old and young 
 
 Struggled in vain below, 
 Thine were the captive city's spoils, 
 In slavery's meshes wrapt, and toils 
 
 Of all-ensnaring woe. 
 Meekly my spirit bows to thee, 
 Jove, Lord of hospitality ! 
 
 By thee was Retribution sent ; 
 
 By thee at Paris' head 
 Long hath the bow been bent ; 
 By thee the shaft was sped — 
 When the fatal hour was come, 
 Meet to execute his doom, 
 Thine arrow bounded to its mark aright, 
 Nor o'er the stars erroneous winged its flight. 
 
26 JESCR. AGAM. 
 
 Beneath the stroke of Jove they fell ; 
 No idly-fancied tale I tell ; 
 
 The task is mine, 
 
 With eagle eyne 
 To track the steps of wrath divine, 
 
 See God fulfil 
 
 His sovereign will, 
 Though man may mock his vengeance still. 
 There have been, whose rebellious pride 
 His righteous judgment has denied, 
 Nor owned the Gods in anger scan 
 Their worship trodden down by man. 
 But banished be the unholy thought, 
 The creed by impious Sceptics taught, 
 Bold sons of Luxury, who defy 
 And challenge thus the powers on high ; 
 Whose gorgeous halls their lords elate, 1 
 With superfluity of state. 
 Mine be the spirit's sober frame, 
 That best may heaven's protection claim ; 
 The mere exemption from distress 
 Is all I ask of happiness ; 
 
 (') If Professor Scbolefield's reading of this very perplexed pas- 
 sage be preferred, it may be thus rendered : 
 
 If pampered e'er mid halls of state, 
 
 And overflowing stores, 
 The human heart, with pride elate, 
 Its bold defiance pours, 
 Children too late their parents' crime shall rue, 
 And Heaven to death the sinful race pursue. 
 
.-ESCH. AG AM. 27 
 
 For vainly Wealth's proud bulwarks tower, 
 When man, in insolence of power, 
 Justice, thy law disdains to know, 
 And dares with impious foot thine altar overthrow. 
 Oft luring with her dulcet song, 
 Temptation's eloquence is strong ; 
 Yet, treasured long, the meed of crime 
 Shall whelm the wretch in after-time ; 
 For vain the toil of human skill 
 To quench the lurid star of ill. 
 As, when experienced hands explore 
 If base alloy pollute the ore, 
 The brass, by long attrition tried, 
 Placed by the purer metal's side, 
 Displays at length the dingy hue, 
 That proves its former claim untrue ; 
 So Time's discerning hand hath art 
 To set the good and ill apart. 
 And he who, fleet in pleasure's race, 2 
 The bird upon the wing will chase, 
 
 2 If the pursuit of Helen by Paris is intended by tins metaphor, 
 a like thought has been more fully expressed in those well- 
 known lines of the Giaour : 
 
 " As rising on its purple wing, 
 The insect Queen of Eastern spring, 
 Through emerald meadows of Cashmere, 
 Invites the young pursuer near," &c. 
 
 If, as is probable, the simile extends to the reckless pursuit of 
 pleasure generally, it is prettily illustrated by the following Italian 
 
 fable 
 
28 MSCH. AGAM. 
 
 Soon, for his folly's meed, may moan 
 His country's ruin, and his own: 
 
 fable of De Rossi. A child is recalled from the chase of a bird 
 by its mother ; 
 
 " E anelante e lassa, alfine, 
 
 Gia del colle sul confine, 
 
 Dice : ' O madre, un vago augello, 
 
 ' Che poc' alto ognor dal suolo, 
 
 ' D' arboscello in arboscello 
 
 ( Dispiegava incerto il volo ; 
 
 ' Inseguia ; ch' ogni momento 
 
 ' Mi parea con man sicura 
 
 'D' afferrarlo; e quegli al vento 
 
 ' Dando 1' ale, a me si fura. 
 
 6 Breve e il vol, ma sempre nuovo, 
 
 ' Si che i passi ognor rinnuovo : 
 
 'Ma F augello ognor si svia. 
 
 ' Quanto mai, quanto sudore, 
 
 ' Ahi ! mi costa, madre mia, . 
 
 ' Quell' augello ingannatore !' 
 
 A colei, che irata accusa 
 
 L' augellin che F ha delusa, 
 
 La prudente genitrice 
 
 Pria sorride, e poi le dice, 
 
 ' Cara figlia, di que' vanni, 
 
 ' Del sudor ch' oggi spargesti, 
 
 ' Ah ! col volgere degl' anni 
 
 ' II pensier vivo ti resti. 
 
 'Qual tu errasti sconsigliata, 
 
 * Per F augel che t' ha ingannata, 
 
 ' Cosi F uomo errando va 
 
 ' Per la sua felicita. 
 
 1 Ognor prossima la vede, 
 
 ' D' afferrarla ognor si crede ; 
 
 1 Ma colei, spiegando 1' ale, 
 
 ' Ad un volo piu lontano, 
 
 1 Corron sempre, e sempre in vano, 
 
 ' Fin che guingano i mortali, 
 
 ' Tra F inganno e tra la speme, 
 
 ' Infelici a Tore estreme.' " 
 
 Dis- 
 
yESCII. AGAM. 29 
 
 No more his prayers the Gods delay, 
 They sweep the reprobate away. 
 
 Disappointed of her game, 
 
 Panting up the hill she came, 
 
 But her story was begun, 
 
 Lre the summit quite she won. 
 
 " Mother ! Mother ! I have been 
 
 " Such a chase across the green, 
 
 " By a cruel bird outwitted, 
 
 " Still from bush to bush it flitted, 
 
 " Rising oft, but soon alighting, 
 
 " Still avoiding, still inviting: 
 
 " Now I thought it all my own, 
 
 " In a moment it was gone : 
 
 " Onward still my steps it drew, 
 
 " Then it spread its wing and flew ; — 
 
 " What a world of pains it cost ! 
 
 " Now the pretty treasure's lost !" 
 
 While the maid her tale repeated, 
 
 Angry to be thus defeated, 
 
 First the prudent mother smiled, 
 
 Then bespoke her pouting child : 
 
 " Let thy chase, my darling, give 
 
 " Lesson to thee how to live. 
 
 " From thine own pursuit and sorrow, 
 
 " From that bird a warning borrow : 
 
 " Rash and headlong, child, like thee, 
 
 " Man pursues felicity. 
 
 " Still illusive prospects cheer him, 
 
 " Still he thinks the treasure near him, 
 
 " When he on the prize would spring, 
 
 " Bliss is ever on the wing ; 
 
 " Thus his weary life he spends 
 
 " In a chase that never ends, 
 
 " Hopes conceived and baffled ever, 
 
 " Bootless quest and vain endeavour." 
 
 See also a little song of Goethe's, entitled Die Freude : 
 " Es flattert um die Quelle 
 Die wechselnde Libelle, 
 
 Mich 
 
30 MSCR. AGAM. 
 
 Such was Paris — he, who sought 
 
 The court of Atreus' son ; 
 There was his work of treachery wrought, 
 There Helen wooed and won ; 
 There, holiest laws were cast aside 
 By thankless guest and faithless bride. 
 
 Mich freut sie lange schon ; 
 Bald dunkel und bald helle, 
 Wie der Chamaleon. 
 
 Bald roth, bald blau, 
 
 Bald blau, bald grim, 
 
 O dass ich in der Nahe, 
 
 Doch ihre Farbe sahe ! 
 
 Sie schwirrt und schwebet, rastet nie ! 
 Doch still, sie setzt sich an die Weiden. 
 Da hab' ich sie ! da hab' ich sie ! 
 Und nun betracht' ich sie genau, 
 Und seh' ein traurig dunkles Blau. — 
 So geht es dir, Zerglied'rer deiner Freuden !" 
 
 Yon dragon-fly, on changeful wing, 
 
 In circles round the crystal spring, 
 
 See fluttering in the sun; 
 
 She mocks my sight; 
 
 Now dark, now bright, 
 Like the Chameleon. 
 Blushing now with ruddy hue, 
 Now a red and now a blue ; 
 Now confused and now more clear, 
 Might I but behold her near! 
 Whirring, flitting', restless thing, 
 Will she never fold her wing? 
 On the meads she lights at last; — 
 Now I hold thee, Captive, fast ! 
 Yet no gaudy tints I spy, 
 Thou art but a dingy fly ! 
 So truth his painted dream destroys, 
 Who would anatomize his joys. 
 
--ESCH. AG AM. 31 
 
 To Sparta's sons a fatal gift, 
 A parting legacy she left ; 
 The conflicts of the spear and shield, 
 The terrors of the battle field, 
 The fleet's array ; — and ruin bore 
 For dowry to the Trojan shore. 
 Daring what none should dare, she sped, 
 And passed the gates with hurried tread, 
 Then, while aloud their dirges rung, 
 'Twas thus the household minstrels sung : 
 " Woe for the courts of pride! 
 
 " Woe for the slighted chief ! 
 " For haunts, by love once sanctified, 
 
 " Now consecrate to grief! 
 " Yet from her injured lord no word 
 " Of passion's wild reproach is heard ; 
 " Fixed in unconscious trance, his gaze 
 " Yet seeks her as in other days, 
 
 " And scarce believes her gone : 
 " A shade will seem his halls to sway, 
 " So will he pine and waste away, 
 
 " For her o'er ocean flown. 
 " No more delighted will he trace 3 
 " The sculptured marble's form of grace, 
 
 ( 3 ) The original admits also of the following version : 
 Nor now delighted will he trace 
 Her statue's imitative grace; 
 The dull, cold stone may ill supply 
 The living richness of her eye. 
 
 The 
 
k 
 
 32 iESCH. AGAM. 
 
 " His longing eyes lack her: — to him 
 
 " All loveliness beside is dim. 
 
 " Then sorrow's phantom- train appears, 
 
 " An empty joy that leads to tears. 
 
 " The dream, with Fancy's colouring warm, 
 
 " Departs, an unsubstantial form, 
 
 " Glides through the arms that fain would clasp, 
 
 " And mocks the lover's eager grasp ; 
 
 " Then spreads aloft its airy wings, 
 
 " That wait on slumber's wanderings." 
 
 The literal translation is this : " The grace of the fair statues is 
 hateful to him, and in poverty of eyes all beauty is departed." 
 This is of course ambiguous ; and it is hard to say which inter- 
 pretation is the most poetical ; but the one adopted in the text is 
 perhaps the best borne out by the phrase in the original. If the 
 poverty of eyes be referred to Menelaus, the expression must be 
 understood as meaning that they were deprived of their greatest 
 treasure, and the idea is illustrated by the lines of Byron: 
 
 " She was his sight; 
 
 For his eyes followed hers, and saw with hers, 
 Which coloured all his objects." 
 
 The Dream. 
 
 If the statues in which Menelaus is represented as taking no plea- 
 sure are supposed to be those of Helen, the poverty of eyes must 
 be understood of the absence of living lustre ; and our own appli- 
 cation of the epithet "rich" to eyes throws light on the passage. 
 And we may remember that it is the appearance of the eye in the 
 supposed statue of Hermione which peculiarly strikes her hus- 
 band : 
 
 he. " The fixture of her eye has motion in't, 
 As we were mocked with art — " 
 
 Pa. " I'll draw the curtain- 
 
 My Lord's almost so far transported, that 
 He'll think anon it moves." 
 
yESCH. AGAM. 33 
 
 Such domestic sorrows met 
 
 Round the Spartan monarch's hearth : 
 Such as these, or darker yet, 
 
 Brood on other spots of earth, 
 By their guilty bridal sent: 
 All their martial aid who lent, 
 Greece, to thy proud armament, 
 Left, in halls with grief opprest, 
 Tearful eye, and aching breast, 
 Love, that, o'er the absent yearning, 
 Waits in vain their glad returning; 
 For, instead of heroes, home 4 
 Vases, ashes only come. 
 
 ( 4 ) The whole of the context is well illustrated by the following 
 speech in Sophocles. It is that of Electra, on receiving the urn, 
 supposed to contain the ashes of Orestes : 
 
 « (pt\Ta.TOU fji.V7iiJ.eiov avOpairoov i/xo\, 
 ipvxr)s 'OpeoTOu Xolttov, ws ct cot' iXiriSwv, 
 ovx wvTrep i^iireixirov, elcrede^dfxrjv. 
 vvv fiev yap ovdhv vvra fiacrrafa %epo?f 
 Hofitav Se a, 3) irai, Aafiirpby e|e7re/iT|/' iyu. 
 ws &<pz\ov trdpoidev e/cAi7retV fiiov, 
 irplv is £evr)v ere yaiav eKirefixpui, x^P ^ 
 nXtyacra tcuvSg, navaaooaaaOai cpovov, 
 OTTcas Qavwv eKeiao rfj tSO* r)fiepa, 
 TVfifSov irarpqiov KOivbv etA^x^ 5 /xepos. 
 vvv 8' £ktos olkwv, Kairl yr)s oAAtjs, (pvyas, 
 KaKcos cwrcoAoy, ays Ka<nyvf)T7)s Si'xa* 
 kovt iv (piAr)(Ti x € §°~ LV V Tahaiv' iyw 
 Xovrgois e/c^c/iTjc', ovt€ irajxcpXeKTOv Trvpbs 
 dvei\6/j.r]V, us elicbs, &9/\iov fiapos. 
 aAA 5 iv £evr)(Ti x*pv i KrjSevdels rd\as, 
 o-fxiupbs irpoo-fiKeis uyKos iv cr/xiKpu Kvrei. 
 oX /J.OI TaKaiva ttjs ifxris iraAai rpo(p7)s 
 
 D avw<pehr)Tov, 
 
34 MSCH. AGAM. 
 
 And Mars, who traffics with the slain, 
 Whose hands the doubtful scale sustain, 
 
 ava><peAr)Tov, ttjv iyoo dap.' <x,u<j[>t aol 
 irov(f yAvKe? irapecrx ov ' ovtg yap ttots 
 H7)Tpbs (rv y' i\o~Qa fxaWov $ Ka.fj.ov <pl\os' 
 oftd' ot tear oJkov fiauv, aAA' syk rpocp6s' 
 eycc 8' aSeAd)^ ffol 7rpoar]vdwfJ.T]V act. 
 vvv 8' eKAeAorrre toJUt' eV rj/xepa puS. 
 6av6ura avu o~ol. iravra yap ^vuapndaas, 
 QiieAA* '6iroos, /BefSrjKas' of^eTaj Trar^p' 
 T^OvrjK iyoo aoi. (ppovBos avrbs el davcov. 
 yeAwcri 8' 4x&poi fiaiuerai 8' v<p? rjSovris 
 fi^Trip ajurjrap, ?)S ifjiol o~v TroAkdicis 
 (p^fxas KaQpa irpovire/xTres, ws tpavov/xevos 
 rifxcopos uvt6s. aAAa ravQ' b dvcrrvxys 
 Sat/now 6 cros re Kapi.os e£a</>eiAeTo, 
 os a a)Se (J.OL Trpovwep-tpev, aurl <pi\TaT7]S 
 fiopcprjs, airodoy re KaX cKiav avuxptArj. 
 
 O sole memorial that my love retains, 
 
 My doting love, a brother's dear remains ! 
 
 How fade the hopes with which I saw thee part, 
 
 And fondly whispered comfort to my heart! 
 
 Then light and joy about thy pathway shone ; 
 
 'Tis nothing now round which my arms are thrown. 
 
 Oh ! had I slept in death, before my hand 
 
 Snatched thee from fate and sent to foreign strand ! 
 
 Thine in that hour had been a gentler doom, 
 
 Thine, sacred slumber in thy father's tomb. 
 
 But now from home afar 'twas thine to die, 
 
 And heave in banishment thy latest sigh. 
 
 No sister sought thine anguish to beguile, 
 
 Decked thy pale corpse, nor, from the expiring pile, 
 
 A mournful load, thy funeral vase conveyed : 
 
 By foreign hands the wonted rites were paid, 
 
 By strangers borne, I see thy dust return, 
 
 A little burden in a little urn. 
 
 Was it for this I watched thine infant charms, 
 
 And blessed thee, while thy weight fatigued mine arms ? 
 
 For 
 
/ESCH. AGAM. 35 
 
 When spears are met in fight, 
 When funeral flames have ceased to burn, 
 W T ith air-light ashes fills the urn, 
 
 Sole relics left of might. 
 The bitter tears that weep the dead, 
 In anguish o'er that dust are shed 
 
 From many a kinsman's eye ; 
 And one they praise, as " skilled in strife," 
 And one, that " reckless of his life, 
 " He, for another's faithless wife, 
 
 " Died fighting gallantly." 
 Not all declared, nor all concealed, 
 Half is the bosom's thought revealed, 
 And murmurs are in secret spread, 
 That light on the Atridae's head. 
 
 For ne'er thy mother's love exceeded mine, 
 Nor I to menials would my charge resign. 
 Oft to mine ear the welcome accents came, 
 When thy fond lips invoked thy sister's name : 
 Now in one fatal moment all is flown, 
 And even memory's pleasures with thee gone ; 
 Thy fate, like tempest, o'er my spirit past, 
 And all my joys were swept before the blast. 
 My sire is gone ; and thou hast ceased to be ; 
 And I, though living deemed, expire in thee. 
 My foes deride ; in exultation wild, 
 My mother triumphs o'er her slaughtered child; 
 No mother she ! — How oft from thee I heard 
 Promise of vengeance, all too long deferred : 
 Our evil Genius stayed thy bright career, 
 And now in mockery sends thy relics here, 
 Relics that ill my brother's place supply, 
 While airy ashes meet my longing eye. 
 d 2 
 
86 /ESCH. AGAM. 
 
 For not beneath their native sky 
 May Graecia's comely warriors lie ; 
 Where erst the Trojan ramparts frowned, 
 Her mighty sleep in hostile ground. 
 At home, sedition's voice is known 
 By sullen, discontented tone, 
 Whose muttered threatenings record 
 A people's curse against their Lord. 
 
 Waits my soul in racking fear, 
 That which night conceals to hear. 
 For those, by whom are many slain, 
 The Gods all-seeing mark : 
 In time the Furies dark 
 Turn them from Fortune's height again, 
 Since not by virtue's aid they gained the steep, 
 In lone obscurity to weep, 
 For aye amid the ruined left, 
 Of aid alike and hope bereft. 
 
 Ask not for too bright a name, 
 Crave not too surpassing fame, 
 For on the proud descends the bolt of heaven, 
 And, launched against their eyes, Jove's thunderbolt 
 is driven. 
 Ne'er fixed on me be envy's gaze, 
 Not mine a city's walls to raze, 
 To sway, a conqueror, or, a captive, pine ; 
 A gentler lot than these, life's happy mean, be mine. 
 
 
iESCH. A GAM. 664. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus allude to the name of Helen, expressive (in 
 Greek) of the evils she had caused. They draw a parallel 
 between the joy her arrival at Troy had excited, and the 
 sorrow resulting from its consequences ; and exemplify it 
 by the pleasure derived from the early playfulness, and the 
 pain produced by the subsequent ravages of a young lion, 
 which had been brought up as a domestic animal. They 
 affirm that it was the guilt of Paris and Helen, not the 
 prosperity of Troy, which caused the destruction of that 
 city, though they allow that virtue is more frequently found 
 in a lowly than an exalted station. 
 
/ESCH. AGAM. 664. 
 
 Helen! who, in early youth, 
 Named thee with too perfect truth ? 
 Was it not, from starry sphere, 
 Some viewless spirit lingering near, 
 Bade thy virgin title be 
 Matched with thy dark destiny ? l 
 
 (') Puns on names were not considered by the Greek tragedians 
 inconsistent with the dignity of tragedy. In the plays of Euri- 
 pides, especially, they abound : and they have been admitted by 
 our own most admired authors. Thus Massinger : 
 " Thy name is Angelo, 
 And like that name thou art." 
 
 The Virgin Martyr. Act II. Sc. 1. 
 And Shakspeare : 
 
 " Admirable Miranda, 
 Nay even the top of admiration." 
 
 The Tempest. Act III. Sc. 1. 
 
 And the Nun in Chaucer says of Saint Cecilia, that 
 " For pure chastnesse of virginitee, 
 Or for she whiteness had of honestee, 
 And grene of conscience, and of good fame 
 The swote savour, Lilie was hire name." 
 
 Canterbury Tales, 15556. 
 
 Two 
 
40 JESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Helen, wooed by warrior's spear, 
 Widow's curse, and orphan's tear, 
 Let thy name thy story tell : 
 Thou, who, like a yawning Hell, 
 In the abyss hast swallowed down 
 Fleet and phalanx, tower and town ! 
 
 From her richly-woven tent, 
 Forth, a faithless Bride, she went, 
 While, to waft her parting sail, 
 Earth-born Zephyr lent his gale. 
 Trackless passed the bounding bark 
 O'er the ocean's bosom dark: 
 Seeking for its wake in vain, 
 Came the fell pursuing train. 
 Many a shield the hunters bore, 
 Chasing those, whose dashing oar 
 Rested, where the leaf-crowned wood 
 Nods o'er Simoi's' silver flood : 
 With the hue of slaughter dyed, 
 Strife the venturous vessels plied. 
 
 Helen's coming well fulfilled 
 
 All that mighty Wrath hath willed, 
 
 Two other etymologies are then proposed of the saint's name, from 
 heven and lia, and heven and leos, and both justified by an appeal 
 to her character. Helen, in Greek, may be conceived to signify 
 the destroyer, though the etymology is ratber forced. The trans- 
 lation here given has do pretensions to originality. 
 
jESCH. agam. il 
 
 When thy turrets, Troy, she sought, 
 Dearly loved, but dearly bought ! 2 
 Long treasured, late hath burst on thee 
 
 Dark vengeance from above, 
 For broken hospitality, 
 
 And desolated love ; 
 And Jove, who, throned on high, 
 
 Guards fire-side bliss below, 
 Hath changed thy bridal melody 
 
 To funeral notes of woe. 
 Free swelled the chaunt, when, mid thy proud array, 
 Her new-found kindred poured the hymeneal lay. 
 
 Other strains, for sorrow meet, 
 
 Ring through Priam's crumbling street ; 
 
 O'er her sons untimely dead, 
 
 Hath that ancient city shed 
 
 Many a tear ; and clasped in vain 
 
 Warrior-sons in battle slain, 
 
 And, taught to loathe the bridal song, 
 
 Mourned Paris' hapless wedlock long. 
 
 He, who the Lion's whelp hath nurst 3 
 
 At home, with fostering hand, 
 Finds it a gentle thing at first, 
 
 Obedient to command ; 
 
 ( 2 ) This is also intended to convey a pun in the original ; the 
 same word signifying wedlock and woe. 
 
 ( 3 ) A parallel passage occurs in Sir Walter Scott's "Abbot;" 
 
 the 
 
42 iESCH. AGAM. 
 
 Amid the playful children sporting, 
 The aged Sire's caresses courting, 
 Like infant, clasped in fond embrace. 
 Rubbing against the hand its face, 
 
 And fawning for its food : 
 Soon, other instincts may he trace, 
 The heirloom of its savage race, 
 
 Its native thirst for blood. 
 Requiting ill its master's care, 
 It banquets on forbidden fare, 
 On many a fleecy flock it falls, 
 Its rage the vassal train appals, 
 
 With gore the chambers flow ; 
 It ranges through the desolate halls, 
 
 Grim minister of woe ! 
 
 Bride of Paris, such art thou ! 
 To Ilion when thy venturous prow 
 First bore thee o'er the ocean brine, 
 What melting loveliness was thine ! 
 
 the words are addressed by Henry Warden to the Lady of Avenel 
 on the subject of Roland Graeme : " You have brought into your 
 bower a lion's cub; delighted with the beauty of his fur, and the 
 grace of his gambols, you have bound him with no fetters befitting 
 the fierceness of his disposition. You have let him grow up as 
 unawed as if he had been still a tenant of the forest, and now you 
 are surprised and call out for assistance when he begins to rend, 
 and tear, according to his proper nature." (The Abbot, Chap. III.) 
 Wellauer has been followed in the application of this simile to 
 Helen instead of Paris. 
 
,ESCH. AGAM. l>» 
 
 A spirit like the breathless calm, 1 
 When summer's gentle air is balm ; 
 Eyes, darting many a tender glance, 
 An unassuming elegance, 
 Whose quiet charms new beauty lent 5 
 To grace each costly ornament ; 
 Love's very flower, whose bloom invites, 
 Yet stings the gazer it delights. 6 — 
 
 ( 4 ) Compare Shakspeare : 
 
 " They are as gentle 
 As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, 
 Not wagging his sweet head." 
 
 Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. 
 
 ( 5 J The original words, anaanouov ayaX/xa ttKovtov, mean " a 
 quiet ornament of wealth." These may imply nothing more than 
 that Helen was modest amid the magnificence of her apparel ; 
 and " the ornament of wealth" must then be considered as a peri- 
 phrasis for " costly array ;" but the expression seems more poeti- 
 cal, if understood to convey the idea, that her quiet charms set off 
 the queenly dress she bore. Compare Massinger : 
 Fiorinda. " How does this dressing show ? 
 Calaminta. 'Tis of itself 
 
 Curious and rare— but borrowing ornament, 
 
 As it does from your grace that deigns to wear it, 
 
 Incomparable." 
 
 The Great Duke of Florence. Act II. Sc. 1. 
 ( 6 ) Literally, " eating the soul." The word Scckvcc, however, 
 perhaps more commonly expresses the sudden infliction of a 
 wound,, than a constant and gradual gnawing. If this be true in 
 the present instance, the passage may be illustrated by the follow- 
 ing lines from Chaucer : 
 
 " He cast his eyen upon Emelia, 
 And therewithal he blent and cried ah I 
 As though he stongen were unto the herte." 
 
 Palamon and Arcite. 1070. 
 
44 ^SCH. AGAM. 
 
 Soon was the blissful promise past! 
 Bitter thy wedlock's fruit at last; 
 Evil the day that saw thee come, 
 Inmate of Priam's peaceful home, 
 Sent by avenging Heaven's decree, 
 A Fury, not a Bride, to be ! 
 
 Falsely, I ween, the Sages told, 
 In parables they framed of old, 
 That glad success and fortune high 
 Beget a fatal progeny. 
 They sung, that, in the destined hour, 
 
 To all who reign below, 
 Spring, from the ancient stem of power, 
 
 Unfailing shoots of woe. 
 I stand alone, yet heed them not, 
 
 For ne'er to righteous halls, 
 Though wealth adorn their master's lot, 
 
 Such evil offspring falls. 
 'Tis guilt alone that teems with sorrow, 7 
 Who from her mother's hue her sombre tint doth 
 borrow, 
 
 ( 7 J This reminds us of Milton's celebrated Allegory, (Par. Lost. 
 II. 648,) in which he makes Sin the parent of Death, according to 
 the expression of St, James, (i. 15.) " Sin, when it is finished, 
 bringeth forth death." And the present passage is still more fully 
 illustrated by one which Mr. Todd, in his note on Milton's lines, 
 quotes from Latimer's Sermons : " Then came in Death and Hell ; 
 Sinne was their mother. Therefore they must have such an image 
 as their mother Sinne would give them." Tins is a curious in- 
 
 instancc 
 
 
yESCH. AG AM. 45 
 
 And ancient deeds of bold offence 
 Bring forth in other days fresh acts of violence ! 
 
 Or soon or late, in heaven's appointed time, 
 Awakes the wrathful child of crime, 
 Spirit, by prowess uncontrolled, 
 In all unholy carnage bold, 
 Nurtured in murky courts of strife, 
 Foul as the form that gave it life. 
 
 'Tis true that Justice oft is found, 
 
 The smoke-dimmed cottage walls around 
 
 Shedding her purest light ; 
 From gilded palaces, where gain 
 Leaves on its master's hand a stain, 
 She speeds her holy flight, 
 Disdainful stalking by, 
 In sullen majesty, 
 Nor smiles on wealth that bears thy stamp, Iniquity ! 
 
 But casts the counterfeit away, 
 True to her task, each deed with meet reward to pay. 
 
 stance of the superiority of JEschylus to his contemporaries in his 
 moral views. The opinion from which he expresses his dissent, 
 that greatness, independent of conduct, provokes the envy and 
 vengeance of the Gods, is frequent in the Greek writers, and 
 especially in Herodotus. 
 
^ESCH. CHOEPH. 20. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 An ominous vision having appeared to Clytaemnestra after the 
 death of Agamemnon, she sends the Chorus, consisting of 
 captive maidens, with libations, in hopes of averting the 
 portended evil. In this Ode they lament their miserable 
 condition, describe the horrible nature of the dream, and 
 express their own unwillingness to offer gifts which must 
 be ineffectual to atone for murder. They proceed to be- 
 wail the house of Agamemnon, and accuse the citizens of 
 cowardice in submitting to JEgisthus, but confidently anti- 
 cipate his fall, since crime is never ultimately unpunished. 
 They conclude with bewailing the necessity laid upon them 
 of concealing their sentiments. 
 
.ESCH. CHOEPH. 20. 
 
 Obedient to my Queen's command, 
 With pure libations in my hand, 
 
 The regal halls I leave: 
 The shredded robe, the oft-dealt blow, 
 The bleeding cheek, whose furrows show 
 The handy-work of frantic woe, 
 
 Bear witness how I grieve. 
 
 Torn is the linen vest, 
 
 That veiled my snowy breast ; 
 And smiles around my lips no longer play ; 
 
 My heart, with care opprest, 
 Is fed on agony from day to day. 
 
 A cry the calm of midnight broke ; 
 From the dark chambers Terror spoke ; 
 Troubler of sleep! — with ghastly stare, 
 With breath of wrath, and bristling hair, 
 And accent shrill that pierced the ear, 
 Loud raved the dream-inspiring Seer ! 
 
50 JESCH. CHOEPH. 
 
 Right heavily he sate, I ween, 1 
 Above the chambers of the Queen. 
 The interpreters, their troth who plight 
 To spell the visions of the night, 
 From God an answer gave : 
 " Sent forth by murdered man," they said, 
 " That form, to haunt the murderer's bed, 
 " Had issued from the grave." 
 The impious Queen in vain these offerings sends, 
 To turn aside the ill that boding dream portends. 
 
 Earth ! her graceless gifts I pour thee ! 
 Earth, my mother ! I adore thee : 
 
 (!) The idea of the evil Genius seating himself on the roof of 
 the house he haunts is frequent in iEschylus. Thus, in the Aga- 
 memnon, the Furies are descried on the roof of Agamemnon by 
 the gifted sight of Cassandra : 
 
 tV yap ffreyriv rrjvS' oirrror' e/cAewrei x°P° 5 
 
 £vfi(pdoyyos, ovk tv<pa)uos' ov yap ev Aeyei. 
 
 Kal [xh\v ireTToiKcas y\ as OpaavveaOai t:\4ov, 
 
 {Sporeiov at/j.u, Kwfxos iv do/xois jueVet, 
 
 dvcTTre/jLTTTOS e|co, j-vyyovwv 'Epivixov, 
 
 i>l.ivovcri 8' vfxvov, dwfiaariv irpo(ri]fievai, 
 
 irpooTapxov 'drrjv. iEscn. J gam. 1157. 
 
 These halls a grisly band ne'er quit, — whose cry, 
 In concert still, yet lacketh melody ; 
 There, drunk with human gore, the troop of hell, 
 The household Furies, ever revelling dwell ; 
 Squat on the roof, with passion's flush they glow, 
 And chaunt, in fiendish songs, the origin of woe. 
 
 And soon after she discovers the children of Thyestes in the same 
 situation : 
 
 dpure 
 
 
iESCH. CHOEPH. 51 
 
 Yet scarce my tongue thy power may dare 
 To mock with ineffectual prayer : 
 Can aught remove the murderer's guilt? 
 Can aught atone for life-blood spilt ? 
 
 Halls, o'erwhelmed in ruin rude ! 
 Hearth, where countless sorrows brood ! 
 Round you, now your Lord is slain, 
 Sunless, hateful shadows reign ; 
 Loyal Faith that once possessed 
 Every listening subject's breast, 
 
 Spare TOucSe tovs 56/j.ois ecprj/nevovs 
 
 veovs, bveipoiv irpoacpepus /j.opQcafj.aaiv ; 
 
 iraiSes, Qavovres wairepel npbs rwv (pikoov, 
 
 XeTpas Kpewv tt\7]9ovt€S oliceius fiopas' 
 
 avu eurepois re ffirXayxy, eTro'iKTiarou yefxos, 
 
 npeirovs' e^ofres, wv rrur^p iyevaaro. 
 
 Mscn.Agam. 1188. 
 
 See, on the roof they sit, like airy dreams, 
 And every form a murdered infant seems, 
 Slain by their friends, a mournful load they bear, 
 Their mangled entrails, once their father's fare. 
 
 And in the Supplices of iEschylus, 635. 
 8idv eirid6fj.evoi irpdicTopd re gkottov 
 8v<TiroX4iJ.r)TOV, ov ovris av Sofios e%oi 
 e7r' op6<pwv fXLuivovra' fiapvs 5* e<pi£ei. 
 
 With prudent dread they learned to fear 
 Heaven's strong and wakeful minister : 
 When on the roof he sits, 
 
 Heavy he falls, 
 And ruin never quits 
 The haunted halls. 
 e 2 
 
52 ^ESCH. CHOEPH. 
 
 Faith, whose firmness seemed to mock 
 War and foul sedition's shock, 
 Hath past away; — the cravens bow 
 Their necks beneath usurpers now. 
 Man to success still court will pay, 
 Still honour Fortune's fickle sway, 
 Exalt her to the blest abodes, 
 A Goddess and above the Gods. 2 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare with this a fragment of iEschylus : 
 ri>xa ,uep<f7rcoi/ apxu kcu repfxa. 
 rb tcul o~o<pias Tifidu 
 Qporeois £7r4d7]Kas epyois* 
 kcu to Kakbv ir\4ov fy kixkov e/c aeOev. 
 a re x<*-P ls AajU7rei 
 irepl o~dv 7TTepvya xpvo~eov' 
 Kul to Tea. wAaffTiyyi do6hv 
 fiaKapKTTOTaTou TeAedet, 
 <rv 8' afiaxavias Tropov e?Ses iv &Aye<n, 
 Ka) Xa^ivpbv <pdos dyayes eV aKOTcp 
 
 Trpo(pepeo~Ta,Ta decou. Frag, hie. 
 
 O Chance, suggesting many a plan, 
 Attaining many an end for man, 
 How oft, when Wisdom's titles shine, 
 And Craft claims praise, the work is thine ! 
 Our woe's our own ; from thee we borrow 
 More oft the taste of joy than sorrow. 
 Grace shines around thy golden wing, 
 
 Thy wand can bliss bestow, 
 Thy bounties to thy chosen fling 
 
 The brightest lot below. 
 And, when afflictions round u^ hover, 
 
 'Tis thine to point the way, 
 And, in that midnight gloom, discover 
 
 The opening light of day. 
 Well at thy shrine may mortals bow, 
 The mightiest of the Gods art thou. 
 
 
iESCH. CHOEPII. 53 
 
 But Justice holds her equal scales 
 
 With ever- waking eye ; 
 O'er some her vengeful might prevails, 
 
 When their life's sun is high ; 
 On some her vigorous judgments light, 
 In that dread pause twixt day and night, 
 
 Life's closing twilight hour ; 
 Round some, ere yet they meet their doom, 
 Is shed the silence of the tomb, 
 
 The eternal shadows lower; 
 But soon as once the genial plain 
 Has drunk the life-blood of the slain, 
 Indelible the spots remain, 
 
 And aye for vengeance call, 
 Till racking pangs of piercing pain 
 
 Upon the guilty fall. 
 What balm for him shall potent prove, 
 Who breaks the ties of wedded love ? 
 And though all streams united gave 
 The treasures of their limpid wave, 
 
 To purify from gore ; 
 The hand, polluted once with blood, 
 Though washed in every silver flood, 
 
 Is foul for evermore ! 
 
 Hard Fate is mine, since that dark day, 
 Which girt my home with war's array, 
 And bore me from my father's hall, 
 To pine afar, a captive thrall; 
 
54 
 
 ^ESCII. CHOEril. 
 
 Hard Fate ! to yield to heaven's decree, 
 And what I am not, seem to be ; 
 Dissemble hatred, and control 
 The bitter workings of the soul ; 
 E'en to injustice feign consent ; 
 Detest the wrong, but not prevent : 
 Yet oft I veil my face, to weep 
 For those who unavenged sleep ; 
 Oft for my slaughtered lord I mourn, 
 Chilled by the frost of grief, with secret anguish torn I 
 
^ESCH. EUMEN. 297. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Orestes, having been encouraged by the oracle of Apollo to 
 slay his mother, is for the crime pursued by the Furies, 
 who form the Chorus, and sing this Ode ; in which they 
 complain of the protection afforded to the criminal by 
 Phoebus, and declare their own office and dignity. 
 
.ESCH. EUMEN. 29' 
 
 Weave the wild dance ; awake the song ; l 
 
 Awake the strain severe, 
 
 And pour on mortal ear, 
 What mighty honours to our race belong. 
 
 (') Obviously imitated from this, is the song of the Furies in a 
 ballad of Schiller's : 
 
 " Ein schwarzer Mantel schlagt die Lenden, 
 Sie schwingen in entfleischten Handen 
 Der Fackel diisterrothe Glut ; 
 In ihren Wangen fliesst kein Blut. 
 Und wo die Haare lieblich flattern, 
 Um Menschenstirnen freundlich weh'n, 
 Da sieht man Schlangen hier und Nattern, 
 Die giftgeschwoll'nen Bauche blah'n. 
 
 " Und, schauerlich gedreht im Kreise, 
 Beginnen sie des Hymnes Weise, 
 Der durch das Herz zerreissend dringt, 
 Die Bande um den Sunder schlingt. 
 Besinnungraubend, Herzbethbrend, 
 Schallt der Erinnyen Gesang 
 Er schallt, des Hbrer's Mark verzehrend, 
 Und duldet nicht der Leier Klang : 
 
 " Wohl 
 
58 ^ESCH. EUMEN. 
 
 Still in justice find we pleasure, 
 Meting right in strictest measure ; 
 He, whose hand from blood is pure, 
 From our wrath may rest secure ; 
 But the sinner, who would fain 
 Cover murder's crimson stain, 
 Still shall find his steps pursued 
 By inquisitors for blood : 
 
 ' Wohl dem, der frei von Schuld und Fehle, 
 
 ' Bewahrt die kindlich reine Seele ! 
 
 ' Ihn diirfen wir nicht rachend nah'n, 
 
 ' Er wandelt frei des Leben's Bahn, 
 
 ' Das wehe, wehe, wer verstohlen 
 
 ' Des Mordes schwere That vollbracht, 
 
 1 Wir heften uns an seine Sohlen, 
 
 ' Das furchtbare Gesehlecht der Nacht ! 
 
 ' Und glaubt er fliehend zu entspringen, 
 ' Gefliigelt sind wir da, die Schlingen 
 ' Ibm werfend urn den fliicht' gen Fuss, 
 ' Dass er zu Boden fallen muss. 
 ' So jagen wir ihn, ohn' Ermatten, 
 ' Versbhnen kann uns keine Reu, 
 ' Ihn fort und fort bis zu den Schatten, 
 ' And geben ihn auch dort nicht frei.' " 
 
 Die Kraniche des Ibycus. 
 
 A sable vest each round her flings, 
 Each in her fleshless fingers swings 
 A lurid torch, that dusky glows ; 
 Within their veins no life-blood flows. 
 And where the graceful ringlets stray, 
 
 Round man's more kindly aspect floating, 
 There only snakes and adders play, 
 
 Their loathsome forms with venom bloating. 
 
 Round 
 
jEsch. eumen. 59 
 
 Due to the unavenged dead 
 Our malison devotes his head. 
 Night ! from whom, with vital breath, 
 Came my lot, in life and death, 
 To be for every dark offence 
 Instrument of recompense, 
 Mother ! to my prayer attend ; 
 Shall Latona's offspring rend 
 From my grasp the destined prey, 
 Steal the matricide away? 
 
 Round in the awful ring they spin, 
 The measure of the hymn begin, 
 That tears its way the heart to wound, 
 And flings its bands the sinner round. 
 It robs the wits, the heart it blasts, 
 
 Loud pealed by the infernal choir, 
 The marrow of the hearer wastes, 
 
 Nor brooks the music of the lyre. 
 
 " Blest, who, from guilt and error free, 
 Keeps the heart's childlike purity ! 
 He walks life's path secure. from fear, 
 We dare not draw in vengeance near. 
 Woe, woe to him, who dares conceal 
 
 His heavy crime, the deed of blood ! 
 We fasten on his flying heel, 
 
 We dog him, Night's tremendous brood, 
 
 " And if he think to spring away, 
 We wave our wing, we net our prey, 
 Around his feet our toils are cast, 
 And be must sink to earth at last. 
 Unwearied thus we urge the chase, 
 
 Nor penitence can aught appease, 
 On to the shades, still on we race, 
 Nor grant him even there release." 
 
60 ^ESCH. EUMEN. 
 
 O'er the victim we repeat 2 
 
 Dirges for our office meet ; 
 
 Might is in that jarring note 
 
 From the yelling Furies' throat ; 
 
 It can bind the soul in sadness, 
 
 Blast the brain with blighting madness, 
 
 Wither budding beauty's bloom, 
 
 Hurry to an early tomb : 
 
 ( 2 ) Euripides describes the Furies in a very similar manner 
 
 5po/xaSes fi> irrcpocpSpoi 
 
 UoTviafies deal, 
 
 afiaKX^TUP at Qiaaov iXax^r iv 
 
 Sdupvai koX yoois, 
 
 /ueAcryxpcoTes EvfieviSes al re tov 
 
 ravaov alBep afXTraXXe(r6\ a'ljuaros 
 
 Tivv/xeuai Siicav, rivvfjievai (poyov, 
 
 KaOiKereiiofxaty KadiKerevofiai, 
 
 rbv ' Ay afxe/JLVovos yovov idarar ek- 
 
 XadeffQai Xiacras fMUViuSos (poiTu- 
 
 Xeov. Eur. Orest. 307. 
 
 Ye, upon rapid wing who speed, 
 Ye, who the mystic dances lead, 
 
 Whom awe-struck man reveres ; 
 Wild Bacchanals in all save joy, 
 For ne'er may mirth your song employ, 
 
 But woe and sighs and tears ! 
 Swart Furies ! whom your pinions bear, 
 Flapping amid the expanse of air ; 
 Exacted by whose vengeful crew 
 Is punishment to murder due, 
 Receive my prayer — let madness wild 
 Quit Agamemnon's wretched child, 
 And sweet oblivion wipe away 
 The memory of his pangs to-day. 
 
^SCH. EUMEN. 61 
 
 Never harp's responsive chord 
 Quivers when that strain is poured. 
 When the web of Fate was spun, 
 First my service was begun ; 
 Him I tend, who, spurning laws, 
 Blood hath shed without a cause, 
 Till he lie entombed in earth ; 
 (Such mine heir-loom from my birth,) 
 Nor in Hades shall he be 
 From the pangs of torture free. 
 
 Not to me to touch was given 
 Pure inhabitants of heaven, 
 Not to taste the social feast, 
 Not to wear the snow-white vest ; 
 When, in household mask, a foe 3 
 Deals the dark assassin's blow, 
 Mine to work his overthrow ! 
 Straight our crew is slipped on him, 
 Straight his glory waxeth dim, 
 Straight his ancient might is fled, 
 Vanquished by the gore he shed. 
 Jealous of the lot we share, 
 We forbid the suppliant's prayer 
 
 ( 3 ) Literally, " When Mars domesticated slays a friend." In 
 accordance with this idea, which makes Mars the God of assassina- 
 tion as well as of war, Chaucer places in the temple of that deity, 
 " The smiler with the knif under the cloke." 
 
 Palamon and Arcite. 
 
62 ^SCH. EUMEN. 
 
 Other Deities to own — 
 
 Vengeance is for us alone ! 
 
 Smeared with gore, and marked by fate, 
 
 Objects of eternal hate, 
 
 We are exiles, forced to rove 
 
 From the blessed courts of Jove. 
 
 Heavy, pouncing from aloft, 
 Swoop we on the victim oft, 
 He, beneath the incumbent load, 
 Faints and totters on his road ; 
 Though be his beneath the sky 
 Fame and princely majesty ; 
 All his honours waste and wane 
 At the coming of our train, 
 When, in sable drapery wound, 
 We tread the mystic dance around : 
 Down he sinks, and knows not who 
 The deed of retribution do. 
 Such the clouds that crime can roll 
 Darkling round the guilty soul ; 
 Deeds of horror thus can blind 
 Reason's ray that lights the mind, 
 Till upon the murderous halls 
 Judgment unexpected falls. 
 
 Plots of vengeance frame we still, 
 Strong to execute our will : 
 
 
JESCU. EUMEN. 63 
 
 Awful to the dead and living, 
 Unforgetting, unforgiving, 
 Guided not by Phoebus fair, 
 Lit by torches' lurid glare, 
 Banished from the starry sphere, 
 Honoured not by love but fear, 
 Lives, I ween, no mortal wight, 
 Who may mock our chartered right. 
 Right, the sister-Fates approve, 
 Sanctioned by the Powers above. 
 Though we dwell the earth beneath, 
 In the sunless realms of death, 
 Yet, amid that dark domain, 
 Honoured is our ancient reign. 
 
yESCH. EUMEN. 468. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Furies, apprehensive lest Orestes, whom they pursued 
 in order to torture him as a matricide, should be rescued 
 from them by Apollo, appeal in the following Ode against 
 such an exertion of divine power, by showing the baneful 
 consequences of abolishing their influence. 
 
/ESCH. EUMEN. 468. 
 
 If yon matricide prevail, 
 Straight from their old foundations hurled, 
 
 The laws of ancient right shall fail, 
 And other statutes rule the world : 
 So from fear of vengeance free, 
 Shall men combine to work iniquity. 
 By children pierced, the parent's breast shall bleed; 
 
 Children, who never rue the deed. 
 No watchful Furies, in that evil time, 
 
 Shall spring in secret on the miscreant's head ; 
 No more our wrath pursue the murderer's crime ; 
 
 Each shall strange horrors hear, each wail his dead, 
 And comfort speak in vain, while woes abound, 
 Against whose might no more sure remedy is found. 
 
 Stricken then by woe severe, 
 Let none repeat the empty call : 
 
 " Justice, and throned Furies, hear ! " 
 Fallen, Justice, then shall be thine hall ! 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 .ESCH. eumen. 
 
 Then the sire's, the matron's grief 
 Vainly in bitter wails may seek relief; 
 Conscience, once wakeful on the bosom's throne, 
 
 Shall mark his dread dominion gone. 
 Sufferings the soul to temperance inure ; 
 
 Man learns from sorrow wisdom's sober lore ; 
 What states or men, if sin could still secure 
 
 The sunshine of the breast, would right adore? 
 Praise not despotic rule, yet cursed be, 
 Where punishment is not, the life of anarchy ! 
 
 God stable strength assigns 
 To moderation : — all beside 
 
 May vary as his will inclines, 
 But trouble aye is born of pride. 
 To the sober soul is given 
 The happiness it seeks in prayer of Heaven. 
 Bow down to Justice: — Mortal man, attend ! 
 
 Low at her spotless altar bend, 
 Nor spurn with impious foot, allured by gain, 
 
 Her holy shrine ; — for retribution's day, 
 -Fraught with the bitter, certain meed of pain, 
 
 Waits but its time the guilty to repay. 
 Then, ever duteous, on thy parents wait; 
 Still to the stranger ope thy hospitable gate. 
 
 Thus, if Fate forbid it not, 
 Thy virtuous course shall blessings win ; 
 
 Ruin can never be the lot 
 Of him who turns his steps from sin : 
 
JESCU. EUMEN. C9 
 
 But the bold in impious cause, 
 Who marred fair order, mocked at righteous laws, 
 Shall drift at length before destruction's gale, 
 With shivered mast, and shattered sail ; 
 He wrestles mid the whirlpool, — strives to call 
 
 On the deaf God, who, heedless of his prayer, 
 Laughs at the boaster who defied a fall, 
 
 Now tangled in the inevitable snare. 
 Perished for aye, and wrecked on Justice' shoal, 
 Unwept, unknown he lies : — above, the billows roll. 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. 151 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 In consequence of a pestilence, which raged at Thebes, the 
 Oracle of Apollo had been consulted : the Chorus, consist- 
 ing of Theban old men, sing this Ode, after the return of 
 the Messengers from Delphi, but before the answer of the 
 God is divulged. They express their anxiety to learn its 
 import, describe the miserable state of the city, and invoke 
 the tutelary Deities to protect them from Mars, to whom 
 they impute the present plague. 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. 151. 
 
 Sweet voice of Jove ! that from the golden shrine 
 
 Of Delphi's seat divine 
 To sparkling Thebes art come, say, what may be 
 The import of thy tale, thou word of destiny ? 
 
 Quick thy hidden lore unrol ; 
 
 Soothe my racked and thrilling soul. 
 
 Strong to smite, and skilled to heal, 
 
 Delian Lord ! the truth reveal. 
 
 Burns my throbbing heart to know 
 If thou wilt dry the bitter tears 
 
 That o'er my wasted country flow, 
 Or now, or in revolving years ; 
 In mercy to my pangs, thy secret tell, 
 Bright child of golden Hope, mysterious Oracle ! 
 
 First of all the Powers on high, 
 Hear me, Jove's immortal child, 
 
74 SOPH. GED. TYR. 
 
 Pallas of the azure eye ! 
 
 Hear me, huntress of the wild ! 
 Thou, who, mid the wrangling mart, 
 Idol of each Theban heart, 
 Shrined on throne of living light, 
 Bearest sway in sceptred might ; 
 Archer Lord, whose arrows fly, 
 Winged with lightning, through the sky ; 
 
 Ye guardian three, 
 
 Appear and be 
 
 Averters of dark destiny ! 
 If ever to our fainting cry 
 
 Ye lent a willing ear, 
 If ever erst ye drove afar 
 The flames of pestilence and war, 
 In woe's forlorn extremity, 
 
 Again, again appear ! 
 
 Round the fated city press 
 Sorrows dark and numberless ; 
 Nipt with desolating pain, 
 Sickly fades her blooming train, 
 Nor weapon of sage thought is near, 
 Whereon to stay our trust, as warrior on his spear. 
 
 The nurslings of the genial earth 
 
 Wane fast away, 
 The children, blighted ere the birth, 
 
 See not the day, 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. "t5 
 
 And the sad mother bows her head, 
 And, with her treasure lost, sleeps mid the crowded 
 dead. 
 
 One upon another driven, 
 Fleeter than the birds of heaven, 
 Fleeter than the fire-flood's might, 
 Rush they to the realms of night, 
 Where, beyond the western sea, 
 Broods the infernal Deity, 
 While our city makes her moan 
 O'er her countless children gone. 
 
 Blasted in its life's young morn, 
 Unwept is laid the infant newly born ; 
 
 Contagion spreads its murderous breath, 
 
 The lap of earth is fraught with death ; 
 
 Mothers, o'er their loved ones bending, 
 
 Brides, their snowy bosoms rending, 
 
 Round the holy altars kneeling, 
 
 Torn by keen convulsive, feeling, 
 Change oft the suppliant cry to wild despair, 
 While sobs succeed to drown the meek, still voice of 
 prayer ! 
 
 Then haste thee from above, 
 Thou golden daughter of all-seeing Jove! 
 
 Bid fly afar_ 
 The frantic Lord of desolating war ; 
 
76 SOPH. CED. TYR. 
 
 Not armed with brazen shield, 
 
 Meet for the mailed field, 
 He stems the battle's terrible array, 
 
 His darkling hands dispense 
 
 The shafts of pestilence, 
 And flame and tumult mark his devious way. 
 
 Bid him 'neath the billows cower, 
 In Amphitrite's spacious bower, 
 Or where loud the waters roar, 
 Lashing Thracia's lonely shore : 
 Unpi tying he, — if midnight shade 
 
 Some pledge of love should spare, 
 His noisome darts by day invade, 
 
 And leave all blighted there. 
 
 Lord of the starry Heaven, 
 Grasping the terrors of the burning levin ! 
 
 Let thy fierce bolt descend, 
 Scathe the Destroyer's might, and suffering Thebes 
 befriend. 
 
 Speed thee here, Lycean King, 
 Archer, from whose golden string 
 Light the unerring arrows spring, 
 
 Apollo, lend thine aid ! 
 • And come, ye beams of wreathed light, 
 Glancing on the silent night, 
 In mazy dance, on Lycia's height, 
 
 When roves the Huntress Maid ! 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. 
 
 Thou, the golden chaplet fair 
 Braiding mid thy clustering hair, 
 To thy native haunts repair, 
 
 Thy name that gave ; 
 Thou, whose brow the wine-lees stain. 
 Thou, to whom, on star-lit plain, 
 Evoe ! sing the frenzied train, 
 
 Bacchus the brave ! 
 With thy torch of pine defy, 
 (Hated by the powers on high,) 
 War's unhallowed Deity : 
 
 Haste thee to save ! 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. 856. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Thebans, in order to remove the pestilence which 
 afflicted them, were enjoined by Apollo to discover the 
 murderer of Laius their former king. Circumstances led 
 to the belief, that (Edipus, then supposed to be the son of 
 Polybus, was the guilty person ; but this seemed contrary 
 to a former oracle of Apollo, which declared that Laius 
 should be slain by his own son. The Chorus, apprehensive 
 lest this apparent contradiction should cause scepticism, 
 describe in the following Ode the immutability of Divine 
 law, and the evil consequences of pride; they pray that 
 their own city may remain free from this sin, and that 
 Jove may vindicate the truth of the suspected oracle. 
 
SOPH. (ED. TYR. 856. 
 
 May Fate accord to me, 
 In word and deed, that hallowed purity, 1 
 
 Whose laws were framed on high, 
 Born in the heavenly chambers of the sky ; 
 
 (') This passage recalls to our mind the following heautiful lines 
 from Wordsworth's Excursion : 
 
 " But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, 
 
 And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, 
 
 Duty exists ; — immutably survive, 
 
 For our support, the measures and the forms, 
 
 Which an abstract Intelligence supplies, 
 
 Whose kingdom is, where time and space are not." 
 
 P. 134. 
 See also the well-known passage of Sophocles, Antig. 449. 
 
 ovoe aOeveiv tgctovtov u>6jj.7)v rd ad 
 
 K77pu7/ua0 5 war dypairra Kaa(paXri dtoov 
 
 vofxijxa dvvaadui Qv-qrov ovff inrepopa/j.e'tv. 
 
 ov yap Tt vvv ye /ca^Ses, aAA 5 del tt6tc 
 
 £fj ravra, Kovoeh olSzv e£ otov '(pdur). 
 
 I never deemed decrees by mortals given 
 
 Annul the sure, unwritten laws of Heaven : 
 
 Nor of to-day nor yesterday they came, 
 
 Through immemorial ages still the same ; 
 
 Their vital strength still fresh, their date unknown, 
 
 Nor changed by Senates, nor by Kings o'erthrown. 
 
82 SOPH. (ED. TYR. 
 
 Olympus gave them birth, 
 They sprang not from the mortal race of earth ; 
 
 No time their might o'erthrows, 
 Never may Lethe lull them to repose ; 
 
 Nor feeble age oppress 
 The unchanging God, that dwells in thoughts of 
 Holiness. 
 
 Pride genders despot rule ; 
 Pride, bred in pampered school, 
 Oft with bloated pomp doth diet, 
 Surfeited with reckless riot : 
 Climbing oft, she seeks to dwell 2 
 Throned on Fortune's pinnacle ; 
 Hurried from the summit straight 
 Down the vast abrupt of Fate, 
 
 ( 2 ) If the reading and interpretation of Brunck should be 
 adopted, the original may thus be rendered : 
 Biddeth oft her votaries dwell 
 Throned on Fortune's pinnacle, 
 Then from highest realms of bliss 
 Hurls them to the dark abyss : 
 From the beetling mountain's brink, 
 Down the vast abrupt they sink, 
 Dashed against the barren coast, 
 Where the darkling steps are lost. 
 
 Perhaps Gray thus understood the passage, and imitated it in his 
 Ode on the distant Prospect of Eton College : 
 " Ambition this shall tempt to rise, 
 Then hurl the wretch from high, 
 To bitter scorn a sacrifice, 
 And grinning infamy." 
 
SOPH. CED. TYR. 83 
 
 Hurled from highest realms of bliss, 
 Sinks she in the dark abyss, 
 Dashed against that rugged coast, 
 Where the darkling steps are lost. 
 Hard though be the task assigned thee, 
 Let not pride, my country, blind thee ; 
 Be thy lot by Heaven decreed 
 Eager service, bounteous meed. 
 God, in whom for aye I'll trust, 
 Holds his shield before the just ! 
 But for the man, whose heart is known 
 By haughty deed and lofty tone, 
 Whose bosom justice never feared, 
 Nor temples of the Gods revered, 
 Spurning Heaven, and rapt in self, 
 Led by sordid lust of pelf, 
 One, who hath not kept him back 
 From pollution's fatal track, 
 Unto him may Fate dispense 
 Pride's unfailing recompense. 
 Conscience ! thou to such canst deal 
 Keener stroke than blade of steel ; 
 Else, if man may Heaven defy, 
 If sleeps the vengeance of the sky, 
 Why the idle chaunt prolong ? 
 Still be the dance, and hushed the song ! 
 
 Far, Phoebus, let thy praises swell, 
 Man learn thy truth, and own thine oracle ; 
 
 G 2 
 
84 SOPH. (ED. TYR. 
 
 Else, never more, 
 
 If thou be faithless known, 
 May we in Abae's courts adore, 
 
 Or Delphi's central throne, 
 Never, at Olympian shrine, 
 Own the Lord of life divine. 
 
 If rightly, Jove, thy praise we sing, 
 
 Universal nature's King, 
 
 Turn not thy wakeful eye away, 
 
 Nor let man mock thy everlasting sway. 
 Mark how he, in impious hour, 
 Doubts of thy prophetic power, 
 Doubts the tale thy Seers of old 
 Of the slaughtered monarch told ; 
 How, by dark mistrust beguiled, 
 He dares to scorn thy Delian child ; 
 How from the rebel world are driven, 
 
 The holy rites, the homage due to heaven. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 674. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 OEdipus, having in his wanderings reached Colonos, a hill 
 near Athens, is addressed in the following Ode by the 
 Chorus, which consists of old men of Attica. They describe 
 the beautiful scenery of the spot, and the blessings of their 
 country, especially celebrating its olives, steeds, and fleet. 
 
SOPH. CED. COL. 674. 
 
 Stranger, thou art standing now 
 On Colonos' sparry brow ; l 
 
 (') This chorus is made peculiarly interesting by the fact, that 
 Colonos was the birth-place of Sophocles, and by a well-known 
 story, recorded by Plutarch. The sons of Sophocles, in his old 
 age, in order to obtain possession of his property, attempted to 
 prove that the decay of his intellect rendered him incapable of 
 managing his affairs. The Poet answered triumphantly by re- 
 citing this beautiful piece, which he had recently composed. It 
 is interesting to compare, with the description of scenery it con- 
 tains, the account given by Hughes : — u All the images in that ex- 
 quisite Chorus of Sophocles, where he dilates with rapture upon 
 the beauties of his native place, may still be verified. The Crocus, 
 the Narcissus, and a thousand flowers, still mingle their_various 
 dyes, and impregnate the atmosphere with odours : the descend- 
 ants of those ancient Olives, on which the eye of Morian Jupiter 
 was fixed in vigilant care, still spread their broad arms, and form 
 a shade impervious to the sun. In the opening of the year the 
 whole grove is vocal with the melody of the Nightingale, and at 
 its close, the purple clusters, the glory of Bacchus, hang around 
 the trellis-work with which the numerous cottages and villas are 
 adorned." " This terrestrial Paradise owes its beauty and ferti- 
 lity to the Cephisus, from whose perennial fountains it is irrigated." 
 (Hughes' Travels in Greece, I. 295.) Lord Byron has made poe- 
 tical use of the little change which has taken place in the scenery 
 and productions of Greece : 
 
 "Yet 
 
88 SOPH. (ED. COL. 
 
 All the haunts of Attic ground, 
 Where the matchless coursers bound, 
 
 " Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; 
 Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, 
 Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, 
 And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields," &c. 
 
 Childe Harold. Canto II. 87. 
 It is again referred to by Lebrun : 
 
 " Ah ! de ses fils perdus la Grece est attristee, 
 Mais pour la consoler la nature est restee ; 
 Mais sons son beau soleil, son sol, f£cond encor, 
 Souritmeme a des mains avides de culture, 
 Mais des bois d'olivier y donnent leur tresor, 
 Mais l'oranger prodigue y repand son fruit d'or, 
 La vigne ses raisins, le myrte sa verdure, 
 Le glatinier ses fleurs ; les platanes £pais 
 Pres des sources encor se plaisent a s'£tendre, 
 En domes transparens, leurs rameaux n'ont jamais 
 Sur la terre laisse tomber un jour plus tendre : 
 Et ces riches vallons, aux sites enchanteurs, 
 Oil du sommet des monts l'ceil charme se repose, 
 Jamais au lit des eaux n'ont vu du laurier-rose 
 Serpenter plus rians les meandres de fleurs." 
 
 Voyage en Grece. 
 Greece weeps her children vanished from her plains, 
 Her only solace, Nature, yet remains ; 
 Still shines her radiant sun : her fertile soil 
 Smiles e'en to bless the peasant's niggard toil : 
 Laden with treasures, groves of olive shoot, 
 The lavish orange yields its golden fruit, 
 The vine her clusters ; — mid the myrtle bowers 
 Still richly glow the red pomegranate flowers, 
 Arching aloft in many a leafy dome, 
 Beside the founts the plane-tree finds its home, 
 Nor ever gleamed athwart its sheltering bough 
 A purer air, a softer sun than now ; 
 Ne'er in those vales, o'er whose enchanted maze, 
 From some tall cliff the eye delighted strays, 
 The laurel-rose, in bed of waters laid, 
 More laughing wreaths of gadding flowers displayed. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 89 
 
 Boast not, through their realms of bliss, 
 Other spot as fair as this. 
 
 Frequent down this greenwood dale, 
 Mourns the warbling nightingale, 2 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare Milton : 
 
 " See there the olive groves of Academe, 
 Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird 
 Trills her thick- warbled notes the summer long." 
 
 Par. Reg. IV. 
 On which passage Dunster remarks : 
 
 " The Nightingale is with peculiar propriety introduced in this 
 description of the Academe ; in the neighbourhood of which we 
 learn from Pausanias (Lib. 1. c. 30) lay the place called Colonus 
 Equestris, which Sophocles has made the scene of his CEdipus 
 ColOneus, and which he celebrates as particularly abounding with 
 Nightingales, v. 19 and v. 704." — The other passage of this play 
 alluded to is the answer of Antigone to her father : 
 X&pos 8' 88' Upbs, us <xa<\) eludcrui, Ppvwv 
 SdcpvrjS, iAatas, d/j-TreAov' irvKvo-Krepoi 8' 
 ecrw /cot' avrbv evaTO/j.ovs' drjooves. 
 This spot seems sacred to some Power divine ; 
 Here bloom the bay, the olive, and the vine. 
 Within its deep retreats, on frequent wing, 
 The Nightingales their tuneful descant sing. 
 
 The general suffrage of poets seems to have ascribed melancholy to 
 the song of the Nightingale. Thus Euripides, Helen, 1107. 
 
 ce tclv iuavAetois virb devdpoico/xois 
 
 /xovaela kcu ddnovs ivi^ovcrav avafiudaa), 
 
 ah rdv aoiSordrav upviQa fteAcpdby 
 
 ar)d6va haupvoeaaau, 
 
 eA0 5 & Sid ^ovQav ysvvwv eA.eAi£«|UeW, 
 
 dprjvois e/.io?s j-yvepyos, 
 
 'EAevas peXeas ttovovs. 
 
 Sad bird, whose tuneful haunts are made 
 Beneath the deepest covert's shade, 
 
 Where 
 
90 SOPH. CED. COL. 
 
 Nestling mid the thickest screen 
 Of the ivy's darksome green ; 
 Or where, each empurpled shoot 
 Drooping with its myriad fruit, 
 
 Where shrubs their tresses weave above 
 The sweetest minstrel of the grove : 
 Sad, tearful Nightingale, whose note, 
 Thick-warbled, swells thy dusky throat ; 
 Come, thy melodious dirges pour, 
 And Helen's griefs with me deplore ; 
 The captive maids, the woes of Troy 
 May well thy plaintive song employ. 
 
 So also Milton : 
 
 " Where the love-lorn Nightingale 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well." 
 
 Comus, 234. 
 And Shakspeare : 
 
 " Here I can sit alone, unseen of any, 
 And to the Nightingale's complaining notes, 
 Tune my distresses, and record my woes." 
 
 Two Gent, of Verona, Act V. Sc. 4. 
 
 But see Coleridge's Poem on the Nightingale : 
 " Most musical, most melancholy bird ! 
 A melancholy bird ? Oh ! idle thought ! 
 In nature there is nothing melancholy. 
 But some night- wandering man, whose heart was pierced 
 With the remembrance of a grievous wrong, 
 Or slow distemper, or neglected love, 
 (And so, poor wretch ! filled all things with himself, 
 And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale 
 Of his own sorrow,) he, and such as he, 
 First named these notes a melancholy strain : 
 And many a poet echoes the conceit." 
 
 In this opinion he is supported by Chaucer : 
 " Then dothe the Nightingale her might 
 To makin noise and singen blithe." 
 
SOPH. CED. COL. 91 
 
 Curled in many a mazy twine, 
 Blooms the never-trodden vine, 3 
 By the Gods' protecting power, 
 Safe from sun and storm and shower. 
 Bacchus here, the summer long, 
 Revels with the Goddess throng, 
 Nymphs who erst, on Nyssa's wild, 
 Reared to man the rosy child. 4 
 
 ( 3 ) It may be reasonably doubted whether the laurel, or rather 
 bay, is not the shrub intended by Sophocles : in one of the hymns 
 attributed to Homer, it is mentioned, in conjunction with the ivy, 
 as forming the garland of Bacchus. (See the passage quoted in 
 the note on line 22.) If this interpretation be adopted, the lines 
 may be thus rendered : 
 
 Or where round the laurel bush 
 Thousand clustering berries blush, 
 Nursling of the joyous God, 
 Ne'er by mortal footstep trod. 
 Never Summer's angry glare 
 Lays its leafy honours bare, 
 And the storm, that scathes the plain, 
 Sweeps its verdant boughs in vain. 
 
 ( 4 ) Compare Homer's Hymn to Bacchus : 
 
 %v Tpi<pov rivKoyLQi vv/j.<pai irapd irarpos dvatiros 
 de^d/xevai KoX-noiai, Kal ivdviceoos cut'itoWov 
 Nvo~r)s iv yuaAois" '6 S 5 de'|6TO irarpos '4kt)ti 
 durpcp iv euwSet fierapiQ^iios a.Qavd.Toio~iv. 
 aindp eireiS)) rovOe 6eal iro\vvfj.uov eOpetyav, 
 Si] to't€ (poiTifco-Ks Kaff v\i]£VTas ivavXovs 
 Kicraw Kal 8d<pvr) ireirvKaa/ievos' ai S 5 a/.L eirovro 
 Nvfupai, 6 S 1 ifyys'iTO' Bpofxos 8' %X* V &o"rreTOV v\t]u. 
 
 In Nyssa's vales the bright-haired Nymphs caressed 
 And clasped the immortal infant to their breast ; 
 Where perfumed breezes sighed, the boy was laid, 
 Watched by his sire, beneath the grotto's shade ; 
 
 There 
 
SOPH. CED. COL. 
 
 Here Narcissus, day by day, 
 Buds, in clustering beauty, gay, 
 Sipping aye, at morn and even, 
 All the nectar dews of heaven, 
 Wont amid your locks to shine, 
 Ceres fair and Proserpine. 3 
 Here the golden Crocus gleams, 
 Murmur here unfailing streams, 
 Sleep the bubbling fountains never, 
 Feeding pure Cephisus river, 
 
 There reared to manhood by the Goddess throng, 
 The future theme of many a grateful song, 
 He loved along the woody dells to stray, 
 Bind round his brow the ivy and the bay, 
 With those fair Nymphs attendant, far to rove, 
 And fill with festive song the echoing grove. 
 
 It is proper to mention, that Nyssa is not specified by Sophocles 
 as the place where Bacchus was cherished by the Nymphs. 
 
 ( 5 ) According to Homer, it was the beauty of the Narcissus 
 which principally attracted Proserpine in the- fields of Nyssa : 
 
 vapKiaativ 0', ov ecpvae SoXov naXvutoiritit. Kovprj 
 Tcua Albs fiovXrjcri x a P l ^°^ vr t ToXvSeKTri, 
 QavjxaffTov yavocoi/ra, aefias Se re ttcutiv Ihecrdai 
 adavarois re 6eo?s ride Qvr\Tois auOpcoirois' 
 rod Kal cwro pifas ettarov Kupa e^eiretyvKei' 
 KrjcoSei t' 08/J.fj iras t 5 ovpavos evpvs vwepOev 
 yaid re nets' eyeXacrffe Ka\ aXfj-vpov old/xa OaXacrcris. 
 71 8' dpa da/J.fir)<Tas' o>pe£aro x e P^ LV &H-' d/mcpco 
 kuXov &dvpfia Xa$e7v' x<* ve $e %^ v svpvdyvia. 
 Nvffiov afAireSiov, rf} opovaev dva\ iroXvheyixwv 
 '{ttitois aOavdroKn, KpSuov ttoXvoovv^ios vios. 
 
 Earth heeded Jove ; to Pluto lent her aid, 
 And bade Narcissus shine to lure the maid ; 
 
 In 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 93 
 
 Whose prolific waters daily 
 
 Bid the pastures blossom gaily, 
 
 With the showers of spring-tide blending, 
 
 On the lap of earth descending. 
 
 Here the Nine, to notes of pleasure, 
 
 Love to tread their choral measure, 
 
 Venus, o'er these flowrets gliding, 
 
 Oft her rein of gold is guiding. 
 
 Now a brighter boast than all 
 Shall my grateful song recall ; 
 Yon proud shrub, that will not smile, 
 Pelops, on thy Doric isle, 6 
 
 In splendour strange its beauteous head it raised, 
 
 And Gods and mortals wondered as they gazed : 
 
 On one light stalk a hundred flowrets hung, 
 
 Far on the breeze its odorous scent was flung ; 
 
 Heaven's wide expanse with joy the perfume quaffed, 
 
 The verdant earth, the briny ocean laughed ; 
 
 The admiring maiden strained her eager grasp, 
 
 But sought in vain the lovely toy to clasp ; 
 
 Quaked all the plain; — earth yawned; — the King of Death 
 
 Rose, drawn by steeds immortal, from beneath. 
 
 ( 6 ) Pindar speaks of the olive as originally flourishing among 
 the Hyperboreans, and thence conveyed by Hercules to Elis : 
 
 "A re Tliffa fie yeycovelv ras airo 
 
 Osv/xopoi v'uraovr eV avQpdjirovs aoiSal, 
 
 w rivi, Kpaivwv ((perfxas 
 
 'HpaicAeos irporepas, 
 
 UTpeK7)S 'EWavod'iKas yXecpdpcaf 
 
 AtVwAbs cti/7?p v\p66ei/ 
 
 a/A<p\ Kop.ai<Ti fiaXoi yXav- 
 
 Koxpoa Koafiov iAaias. rdv irore 
 
 "larpov 
 
94 SOPH. (ED. COL. 
 
 Nor on Asiatic soil, 
 But unsown, unsought by toil, 
 Self-engendered, year by year, 
 Springs to life a native here. 
 Tree the trembling foeman shuns, 
 Garland for Athena's sons, 7 
 
 ''iffrpov and aKiapuu imyiiv eveinev 
 
 'A/xtpiTpvupiddas, 
 
 fivajxa, ra>v 'OAvfxiria, KaWiarov &d\wv, 
 
 da/xov 'Tirepfiapecav ireiaas, 'AwoA-' 
 
 \wvos Bepdiroura. Bye 
 
 iriffTCt. (ppoveow, Ai6s vitrei iravSoKto 
 
 akaei cTKiapov re (pvrevfia 
 
 tpvov avdpwirois, are(pav6v t operas. Pind. 01. III. 17. 
 
 Pisa bids me breathe the lay, 
 
 Pisa, from whose hallowed plains 
 
 Proceed the godlike minstrel strains, 
 
 For him who wins the day ; 
 
 Around his throbbing brow, 
 Obedient to decrees 
 Of ancient Hercules, 
 See the Eleian arbiter display 
 
 The silvery olive bough ; 
 The olive, that from Ister's shore 
 Alcmena's son in triumph bore, 
 Where o'er the cbilling stream it wove, 
 Mid Hyperborean tribes, an ever- verdant grove. 
 True votaries of the Delian God, 
 
 They gave it to the Hero's prayer; 
 Amid Olympia's wood, by thousands trod, 
 
 To rear its branches fair ; 
 For weary limbs wreathing an arbour's shade, 
 And, for the victor's brow, a wreath untaught to fade. 
 
 ( 7 ) The word iraidorpocpov admits of the passage being rendered 
 thus: 
 
 Terror of the adverse host, 
 Food our babes delight in most. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 95 
 
 May the olive long be ours, 
 None may break its sacred bowers, 
 None its boughs of silvery grey 
 Young or old may bear away : 
 Morian Jove, with look of love, 
 Ever guards it from above, 
 Blue-eyed Pallas watch unsleeping 
 O'er her favourite tree is keeping. 
 
 Swell the song of praise again ; 
 Other boons demand my strain, 
 Other blessings we inherit, 
 Granted by the mighty Spirit; 
 On the sea and on the shore, 
 Ours the bridle and the oar. 
 
 Son of Saturn old ! whose sway 
 Stormy winds and waves obey, 
 Thine be honour's well-earned meed, 
 Tamer of the champing steed : 
 First he wore on Attic plain 
 Bit of steel and curbing rein. 8 
 
 ( 8 ) The allusion here is to the well-known contest between 
 Pallas and Neptune. See Ov. Met. VI. 70. 
 
 " Cecropia Pallas scopulum Mavortis in arce 
 Pingit, et antiquam de terra? nomine litem. 
 Bis sex ccelestes, medio Jove, sedibus altis 
 Augusta gravitate sedent. Sua quemque Deorum 
 Inscribit facies. Jovis est regalis imago. 
 
 Stare 
 
96 SOPH. CED. COL. 
 
 Oft too o'er the waters blue, 
 Athens, strain thy labouring crew ; 
 Practised hands the bark are plying, 
 Oars are bending, spray is flying, 
 Sunny waves beneath them glancing, 
 Sportive Nereids round them dancing, 
 With their hundred feet in motion, 
 Twinkling mid the foam of ocean. 
 
 Stare Deum pelagi, longoque ferire tridente 
 Aspera saxa facit, medioque e vulnere saxi 
 Exsiluisse ferum ; quo pignore vindicet urbem. 
 At sibi dat clypeum, dat acutse cuspidis hastam 
 Dat galeam capiti ; defenditur aegide pectus. 
 Percussamque sua simulat de cuspide terram 
 Prodere cum baccis foetum canentis olivae : 
 Mirarique Deos: Operi victoria finis." 
 
 Next in the web, in mimic strife, 
 Pallas and Neptune start to life, 
 
 Mars' Hill appears in view ; 
 To judge the combat throned and crowned, 
 Twelve Gods august are seated round, 
 
 And each a portrait true. 
 Jove in the midst, most like a king, 
 " The centre of the glittering ring," 
 
 And He, the Lord of Ocean ; 
 His trident deals its heaviest shock, 
 The steed emerges from the rock, 
 
 The crags are all in motion : 
 And next, the Goddess stands revealed, 
 With aegis, helmet, spear, and shield, 
 
 A Maid, armed cap-a-pie, 
 She wounds the soil, — the shrub strikes root, 
 The silvery olive sheds its fruit ; 
 
 The Gods the prize decree ; 
 Thenceforth for aye sball Cecrops' plain, 
 With olives crowned, the name retain 
 
 Of that kind Deity. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 1048. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Creon, having conveyed away by force the daughters of 
 CEdipus, is pursued by Theseus with an army. During 
 their absence the Chorus sing the following Ode: they 
 express a wish to join the Athenian host ; conjecture the 
 course probably pursued by them ; predict their victory, 
 and invoke the assistance of the Gods. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 1048. 
 
 Waft me hence, and set me down, 
 Where the lines of battle frown ; 
 Waft me, where the brazen shout 
 Of the Lord of War rings out 
 On the Pythian coast, or where 
 Flickering torches wildly glare, 
 Where on mystic rites have smiled 
 Ceres, and her honoured child. 
 Many a priest attends their shrine, 
 Sprung of old Eumolpus' line, 
 While discretion's golden key 1 
 Locks their lips in secrecy. 
 Round the virgin-sisters twain 
 Soon shall fall the crowded slain, 
 
 (') Compare Hamlet, I. 3. 
 
 " 'Tis in my memory locked, 
 And you yourself shall keep the key of it.' 
 h 2 
 
100 SOPH. GED. COL. 
 
 Theseus soon, in mailed might, 
 Wake the terrors of the fight. 
 Now, I ween, in haste they glide 
 CEa's snowy rocks beside ; 
 There, beneath the western sky, 
 Swift their straining coursers fly, 
 Rapid roll their whirling cars ; 
 Fleeter speeds pursuing Mars ; 
 Theseus' train is on its way, 
 Keen to grasp the destined prey ; 
 Every bit like lightning glancing, 
 Every mailed knight advancing, 
 Every charger's arched neck 
 Princely spoils and trappings deck. 
 Yours the vow for victory won, 
 Hippian Pallas ! Rhea's son ! 
 Thou, who, throned in coral caves, 
 Claspest earth, and rulest waves ! 2 
 Is the awful stillness past? 
 Have they closed in fight at last? 
 Answer, my prophetic soul ! 
 Thou canst secret fate unrol. 
 Soon, I ween, shall warrior sword, 
 Wielded by Athena's lord, 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare King John, V. 2. 
 
 " O nation ! that thou couldst remove ! 
 That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, 
 Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself." 
 
SOPH, CED. COL. 101 
 
 Free the maid, by sorrow bowed, 
 Mocked and scorned by brethren proud : 
 Thus shall righteous Jove to-day 
 Judge for her the dubious fray ; 
 So, across my spirit's dreams 
 Joy anticipated gleams. 
 Might I, like the soaring dove, 
 Roam the aerial fields above, 
 Her, who, borne on tempest wings, 
 Forth with rustling pinion springs, 
 Sweet it were, from clouds on high, 
 Battle's changeful tide to spy. 
 Jove ! whose everlasting sway 
 Heaven's unchanging Gods obey, 
 Jove ! before whose piercing eyes 
 Bare each thing created lies, 
 Let not; on the conflict plain, 
 Theseus spread his toils in vain ; 
 Grant to Athens' champions brave 
 Might to vanquish, strength to save. 
 Pallas ! Jove's majestic child, 
 Phcebus ! hunter of the wild, 
 Dian ! still the woodland wooing, 
 Still the dappled stag pursuing, 
 Archer lord, and mountain maid, 
 Haste ye, haste ye to our aid ! 
 
SOPH. GED. COL. 1218. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus take occasion from the misfortunes of (Edipus 
 to moralize on the condition of man. 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 1218. 
 
 There are, who would the life of man 
 
 Protract beyond its little span : 
 
 But dreaming fools seem such to me, 
 
 And hoarders up of vanity. 
 
 Man is but brought by length of years 
 
 More nigh a land of grief and tears ; 
 
 Vainly he casts his eyes around, 
 
 To search for joy, that is not found, 
 
 While still, with fond desires possest, 
 
 Repines his over-yearning breast. 
 
 One only healing hour remains, 
 
 The hour when Hades' monarch reigns, 
 
 When Fate, without the bridal choir, 
 
 Without the dance, without the lyre, 
 
 And Death, man's comforter and friend, 
 
 Appear, his weary course to end. 
 
106 SOPH. (ED. COL. 
 
 Of all the dreams of bliss that are, 
 Not to be born is best by far; l 
 
 (') Compare Ecclesiastes iv. 2,3. — "Wherefore I praised the 
 dead, which are already dead, more than the living, which are yet 
 alive. Yea, better is he than both they, which hath not yet been, 
 who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun." 
 
 See also the following passage of Milton : 
 
 " Better end here unborn, — why is life given 
 To be thus wrested from us ? rather why 
 Obtruded on us thus ? who, if we knew 
 What we receive, would either not accept 
 Life offered, or soon beg to lay it down, 
 Glad to be so dismissed." 
 
 Compare also the following lines of Lamartine : 
 
 " J'ai vecu, j'ai passe ce desert de la vie, 
 Oft toujours sous mes pas chaque fleur s'est ftetrie, 
 Oft toujours Pesperance, abusant ma raison, 
 M'a montre le bonheur dans un vague horizon ; 
 Ou, du vent de la mort les brulantes haleines 
 Sous mes levres toujours tarissaient les fontaines. 
 Qu'un autre, s'exhalant en regrets superflus, 
 Redemande au passe ses jours qui ne sont plus, 
 Pleure de son printems l'aurore evanouie, 
 Et consente a revivre une seconde vie. 
 Pour moi, quand le destin m'offrirait a mon choix 
 Le sceptre du g6nie, et le trone des rois, 
 La gloire, la beaute, les tremors, la sagesse, 
 Et joindrait a ses dons l'dternelle jeunesse, 
 J'en jure par la mort, dans un monde pareil, 
 Non ! je ne voudrais pas rajeunir d'un soleil. 
 Je ne veux pas d'un monde, oil tout change, ou tout passe, 
 Oii, jusqu'au souvenir, tout s'use et tout s' efface, 
 Oft tout est fugitif, passable, incertain, 
 Oft le jour du bonheur n'a pas de lendemain." 
 
 Yes, I have strayed along life's desert road ; 
 Daily the flowrets withered where I trod ; 
 
 Still 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL; 107 
 
 Next best, by far the next for man, 
 To speed as fast as speed he can, 
 
 Still Bliss was placed by cheating Hope in view, 
 But, with the horizon fleeting, still withdrew ; 
 Beneath my lips I've felt the fountains fail, 
 Drained by the blast of Death's destructive gale. 
 In vain regret, their woes let others pour, 
 Ask of the past the days that are no more, 
 Weep for the morning of their spring-tide fled, 
 Consent anew life's weary path to tread. 
 For me, though lavish Fate should make my own 
 The crown of genjus, or the monarch's throne, 
 Fame, beauty, wealth, the instinctive glance of truth, 
 And add to all her gifts eternal youth, 
 By Death I swear, while thus life's course is run, 
 I'd not be younger by a single sun. 
 I cannot love a world, where all betrays, 
 ' All changes, passes, Memory's self decays, 
 On Joy's brief day where never morrows rise, 
 All fleets and fades, all vacillates and dies. 
 
 Equally melancholy sentiments with regard to human life pervade 
 most of the Greek poets. See, among many other passages, 
 Eurip. Med. 1193. 
 
 to. Qi>y\ra V oh vvv irp&rov rjyodfxai o~K.ia.T-', 
 
 ovh" au rpetras e'liroifJit, tovs crocpovs fipoT&v 
 
 SoKovuras eivcu teal fxupijxvqTas \6ycou 
 
 tovtovs nsyi<TT7)v [xwplav ocpXiaKaveLv. 
 
 &vr)T&u ykp ovb~eis eariu ei/Salfxccv (pvaei' 
 
 6\l3ov S 5 imfipvevTOS, evTi>xeo~T€pos 
 
 aWov ysvoiT h.v d\\os, 6\j3ios S 5 au ov. 
 
 'Tis sad experience bids the though tfu say, 
 The things of earth, like shadows, fleet away. 
 Those wisest deemed, who, wrapped in study, pore 
 O'er nature's mysteries, or on learning's lore, 
 Who waste life's hours amid sequestered schools, 
 Rank but the first among the train of fools. 
 None, none are blest! — Wealth pampers mortal Io 
 And Fortune smiles, but happiness is not. 
 
 And 
 
108 SOPH. (ED. COL. 
 
 Soon as his eyes have glanced on earth, 
 To where he was before his birth ! 
 
 And a fragment of Menander : 
 
 tovtov evrvx^Tarov \4yu, 
 
 oorns dewp-fjaas aAvirws, Tlapfxevwv, 
 ret a€[A.va iravT airrjAQev, '6dev ^A0ei/, rax", 
 rbt> *f)\iov rbv koivov, do'Tp', vSup, vk<p7\, 
 irvp' r avrcL, Kav eKarbu err] jStcooreTat, 
 uxpei irap6vTa, kUp iviavTovs o 1 <p6Sp > bxiyovs, 
 aefu/OTepa tovtwv arep ovk ctyei ttotz. 
 TTuvhyvpiv v6fiia6u tiv eiuai rbv xpo'wv, 
 'bv (prjfjil, tovtov, tV emBr](ji.iuv &va>, 
 b'xhov, ayopas, KAeirTas, Kvfidas, 5iaTpi/3as. 
 av irpuTOS ££e\8r)s, KaTaXvcrtis /SeA/noV 
 icpoBi %x av o-Trrj\6fs, ex^pos ovdevl, 
 b ■Kpocb'iaTpifSctiv Komdcras airehacre. 
 icaKcvs T6 yr/pcop, ii/derjs tov yiveTai, 
 peixfiojxevos ix^P 0VS e ^P> zirz&ovXsvdT) 7ro0e* 
 ovk evQavaTws airijAOev ikQoov els xpo^ou. 
 
 He is the happiest man, whose eye, 
 Just glancing nature's majesty, 
 The sun's impartial light, 
 
 The fire, the clouds, the deep, 
 The twinkling stars of night, 
 Is straightway closed in sleep. 
 Whose footsteps to the distant bourn 
 From whence he came, with speed return. 
 For though on earth a hundred years he range, 
 He shall not look on nature's change ; 
 The elements, the heavens so fair, 
 
 That met his infant gaze, 
 A more majestic beauty wear, 
 Than ought beside displays. 
 
 Life is a fair, where thousands jostle, 
 Where all is dice, and thieves, and bustle, 
 All tumults fierce, and wranglings loud ; 
 And we are pilgrims mid the crowd. 
 
 Who 
 
SOPH. (ED. COL. 109 
 
 For when unthinking youth is nigh, 
 Girt with thin forms of levity, 
 
 Who would not long such scene to leave, 
 Ere strife or losses bid him grieve ? 
 To be the first his home to win, 
 Or rest him in some quet inn ? 
 The lingerer finds but toils unceasing, 
 Sorrows, and wants, and foes, increasing ; 
 No certain joy, no changeless friend ; 
 A darker life, a bitterer end. 
 
 The opposite views which may be taken of human life are prettily 
 contrasted in the following Epigrams : 
 
 Troii)v Tis fiioTOio Tajxoi rp'ifiov ; etV ayopfj fj.\v 
 
 veiicea Kal xa\e7ral irpT)!-i€S' ev Se dofjois 
 (ppovTiZes' iv 5' aypo?s Kafxdrwv a\is' iv <5e daXuacrr) 
 
 rdp&os' iirl ^eivqs 8', fy fj.ev e'xTjs rl, 5eW 
 t)v 5° a-rropijs, avi-qpov' ex^'S ya.jJ.ov] ovk afj.epif.ivos 
 
 ecraeai' ov yafjeei.s ; £fjs ex' iprj/aoTepou. 
 rsKva irovoC Trfjpoocris anais foios' at z/eoTTjTes 
 
 a<ppoves' at iro\ia\ 5' e/xiruAiv aSpavees. 
 rfv dpa Tois dio~o~o7v evbs cupeais, ^ to yeveadai 
 
 lU^Sen-OT 5 , ?) to daveiv ahr'uca riKTofxevov. 
 
 Tell me in what state of life, 
 
 Man may ever happy be? 
 In the mart is wrangling strife, 
 
 In his home anxiety. 
 Howsoe'er his course be planned, 
 
 Still vexation shall he reap, 
 Toils fatigue him on the land, 
 
 Terrors wait him on the deep ; 
 Wilt thou rove 2 if wealth be thine, 
 
 Thou mayst be the robber's prey ; 
 If without it, thou mayst pine, 
 
 Cheerless, on thy lonely way. 
 If by wedded love attended, 
 
 Thou shalt have increase of care ; 
 
 Art 
 
110 SOPH. (ED. COL. 
 
 What woes are absent from his train ? 
 What shapes of labour and of pain? 
 There muster Envy and Debate, 
 Malice and Battle, Strife and Hate ; 
 
 Art thou single? unbefriended, 
 Thou must sink beneath despair. 
 
 Woe from children shalt thou gain, 
 Yet without them must thou mourn ; 
 
 Youth is Folly's idle reign, 
 Age is feeble and forlorn. 
 
 This the best that can befal, 
 
 Either not to be at all, 
 
 Or from life received to fly, 
 
 And as soon as born to die. 
 
 iravToi-qv fiioTOio rdfxois rplfiov etV ar/opfj fiev, 
 
 KrjBea Kal -kivvtcu irp^ies' h 8e Sopots, 
 dfXTravfx' eV 8' aypo?s (pvcrtos X"-P ls ' * v $ e 6a\dcr<Tij 
 
 Kepdos' e7ri j-eivris, 7]V /j.ev ixV s T '> k\4os' 
 t)v 8' airoprjs, [xovos oTSas' e%6is ydfiov ; oTkos dpiaros 
 
 eacerai' ov yctfieeis ; £fjs «?t' eAacpporepoW 
 reKva irodos' acppovris anais fiios. al veorrjTes 
 
 pcofiaXeaf iroAial 8' ep-TraXiv sitae fiees. 
 ovk dpa root/ dicraoou evbs atpecris, r) to yeveadai 
 
 /j.r)deiTOT, fy rb 6uue?v avrUa TiKTo/xeuov. 
 
 Man may find life's pathway brightened, 
 
 If he will, where'er he roam; 
 In the mart his mind's enlightened, 
 
 Rest refreshes him at home ; 
 Howsoe'er his course be planned, 
 
 He shall still enjoyment reap ; 
 Nature smiles upon the land, 
 
 Gain is gathered from the deep. 
 Wilt thou rove? — if wealth be thine, 
 
 All will thy behest obey; 
 Art thou poor ? — none need divine 
 
 The secret, if thou still art gay. 
 
SOPH. CED. COL. 1 1 1 
 
 Till comes, the butt of scoffers' scorn, 
 That lot, the last, the most forlorn, 
 With none to aid, to love, to know, 
 Age, with his household, Woe on Woe ! 2 
 
 If by wedded love attended, 
 
 Comfort smiles around thy hearth ; 
 If without, till life is ended, 
 
 Thine is liberty and mirth. 
 Joy from children mayst thou gain ; 
 
 Childless, thou from care art free ; 
 Youth is Vigour's healthful reign, 
 
 Age is fraught with piety, 
 "lis not the best that can befal, 
 Either not to be at all, 
 Or from life received to fly, 
 For life is all felicity. 
 
 There is a passage of Aristophanes, in which he seems to have 
 collected most of the phrases by which the Greek Tragedians 
 express the wretchedness of man : 
 
 "Aye 877 (pvo~iv avSpes apiavpofiioi, (pvWcau yevea irpoao/xotoi, 
 oXiyob'pavees, TvKaafxara irrjAov, antoeiSea <^GA 5 a/xev^vd, 
 airrrives £<pt]ixlpioi, raXaol fipoTot, avepes elueXoveipoi. 
 
 Man, clouded o'er with grief! 
 
 Thou moulded thing of clay ; 
 Man, fading as the leaf, 
 
 The creature of a day ; 
 Weak nestling, wretched, dying, 
 
 Imbecile, made to moan, 
 A shadow quickly flying, 
 
 A dream, just seen and gone ! 
 
 (a) Gray employs a metaphor somewhat similar: 
 
 " The painful family of Death, 
 
 More hideous than their Queen." 
 
 Ode on the. Prospect of Eton College. 
 
 But 
 
112 SOPH. CED. COL. 
 
 Beneath whose weight opprest, decline 
 The years of GEdipus and mine. 
 As billows, by the tempest tossed, 
 Burst on some wintry northern coast, 
 So, toppling o'er his aged form, 
 Descends the fury of the storm ; 
 The troublous breakers never rest ; 
 Some, from the chambers of the West, 
 Some, from the orient sun, or where 
 At noon he sheds his angry glare, 
 Or where the stars, faint twinkling, light 
 The gloomy length of Arctic night. 
 
 But the expression of Sophocles is best illustrated by Chaucer : 
 
 " With Elde Labour and eke Travaile 
 Lodgid bene, with Sorowe and Wo, 
 That nevir out of her court go, 
 Paine and Distresse, Sicknesse and Ire, 
 And Melanc'ly, that angry sire, 
 Ben of her palais senatours, 
 Groning and Grutching her herbegeours : 
 The day and night her to tourmenr, 
 With cruill Deth thei her present, 
 And tellin her erliche and late. 
 That Deth stondeth armid at her gate ; 
 Then bring thei to her remembraunce 
 The foly deeds of her enfaunce." 
 
 Romaunt of the Rose, 4997—5009. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 332. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 332. 
 
 Many a wile hath nature taught 
 
 By instinct's secret call ; 
 But man, with sovereign reason fraught, 1 
 
 In cunning passeth all. 
 
 (*) A train of reflection very similar to this occurs in Herschel's 
 Introduction to the Study of Natural Philosophy, chap. i. — 
 " Man is the undisputed lord of the creation. The strongest 
 and fiercest of his fellow-creatures, the whale, the elephant, the 
 eagle, and the tiger, are slaughtered by him to supply his most 
 capricious wants, or tamed to do him service, or imprisoned to 
 make him sport. The spoils of all nature are in daily requisition 
 for his most common uses, yielded with more or less readiness, 
 or wrested with reluctance, from the mine, the forest, the ocean, 
 and the air. Such are the first-fruits of reason." Menander, in 
 the following lines, playfully maintains the opposite opinion : 
 
 "Attuvto. to. f<£' ecm ixaKapicarepu, 
 ku\ vovv iypvra. paWou avdp(Jiirm> iro\6. 
 rov ovov bpav el-eari irpwra rovrovl. 
 ovros KUKoSaliJLWV iarlv 6/j.o\oyovfiev<as. 
 TovTtp KaKbv hi avrbv ovBev yiuercu, 
 it 8' t) (pvrrts SeSw/cei/ avry, tout' ex**- 
 
 I 2 W^s 
 
116 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 'Tis his, across the foam-white tide, 
 Before the wintry blast to ride, 
 Though billows round him swell and roar, 
 He skims along from shore to shore. 
 The Goddess Queen of eldest birth, 
 Undying, inexhausted Earth, 
 
 rjfMSLS Se, x^P 15 Tcav avayKaiwv kclkcov, 
 avrol Trap' avroov erepa Trpoairopi^o/nev. 
 XvirovjJi.€d\ av Trrdpr) tis' av S 5 eXirri k<xk£>s, 
 dpyi£6/Ji.e6'' av ?8r) tis hvirviov, a<p68pa 
 (pofiovfjLed'' av y\av£ avaKpdyy, SeSowcafiej/. 
 ayccviai, So|at, (piKorifxiai, vo/j.oi f 
 airavra ravr 4irl6era rrj (picrei Kaicd. 
 
 If character's distinctive features 
 
 Attentively you scan, 
 You'll find that e'en the dullest creatures 
 
 Have all more wit than man ! 
 Yon shaggy ass, on thistles fed, 
 
 Is wretched, all agree ; 
 And yet it truly may be said, 
 
 He's far more blest than we. 
 He takes what Nature's hand bestows, — 
 
 And Nature still is kind, 
 But oh ! Man's wishes and his woes 
 
 Are not by her confined : 
 Opinion's difference, passion's strife, 
 
 Oppression's iron hand, 
 Ambition's ever restless life, 
 
 Heed not her mild command. 
 If haply your next neighbour sneeze, 
 
 You start, and cry, "God bless you " 
 An angry word can mar your ease, 
 
 A boding dream distress you. 
 If hoots the owlet, bird of fate, 
 
 It wakes your superstition ; 
 Such fancied ills will man create. 
 
 To darken man's condition. 
 
SOPH. ANT1G. J 1 
 
 He wears with toil from year to year, 
 
 He guides the steed, and turns the share. 
 
 The silly birds, an easy prey, 
 
 The fowler bears entrapped away. 
 
 The hunter clears the covert's side ; 
 
 By fisher's art the depths are tried, 
 
 Where for the finny race are set 
 
 The meshes of the folded net. 
 
 The beast that stalks the mountain bare, 
 
 Or makes amid the fields his lair, 
 
 O'ermastered lies by reason's plan, 
 
 And yields to all-inventive man. 
 
 The steed beneath the yoke is prest, 
 
 Fast-bound amid his shaggy crest ; 
 
 The bull, that roamed the hill-top free, 
 
 Bows to unwonted slavery. 
 And gifted man himself hath taught 
 Utterance of speech and airy thought, 
 Hath learnt to govern fierce debate, 
 And sway the councils of a state ; 
 And when, upon the frozen ground 
 Chill winter sheds its shafts around, 
 He shuns, while stormy seasons lower, 
 Neath structured roof the inclement hour. 
 For shifting Fortune's shock prepared, 
 No moment finds him off his guard ; 
 And, though at last to Death he quail, 
 That only foe who must prevail, 
 
118 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 Yet can his wit devise escape 
 From fell distemper's varied shape. 
 Outstripping hope, man hath at will 
 Invention quick, and subtle skill, 
 Now framing good, now fostering ill. 
 If faithful to his country's laws, 
 True to his oath in righteous cause, 
 
 High be his place and fame ; 
 But if from honour's side he stray, 
 Impatient of her kindly sway, 
 
 Sunk be his outcast name ; 
 For such no love my bosom knows, 
 Nor such shall at my hearth repose. 
 
SOPH. AN TIG. 579, 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus, attributing the misfortunes of Antigone, who 
 was about to suffer for disobeying Creon, to the crimes of 
 the Labdacidae, her ancestors, describe the manner in 
 which the sins of the fathers are visited on the children. 
 They represent the law that punishment must follow trans- 
 gression as a consequence of the immutability of Jove; 
 and show how productive it is of sorrows to the human 
 race, since most men are beguiled into the pursuit of evil. 
 
SOPH. AN TIG. 579. 
 
 How blest are those, untaught to drain 
 Retribution's cup of pain! 
 Sorrow's heaven-commissioned shock 
 Can the mightiest palace rock. 
 Tremble then the deep foundations ; 
 Then, through countless generations, 
 Gathering on to son from sire, 
 Higher raves the storm and higher ! 
 As when inclement blasts of Thrace 
 Heave from its depths the ocean, 
 
 Scudding in rapid race, 
 
 Through its darkling caves, 
 
 The swelling waves 
 Set the stormy sands in motion : 
 Each after each, with sullen roar, 
 Sweeps the abyss's miry floor, 
 
 The waters splash, 
 
 The billows lash 
 The groaning, echoing shore. 
 
122 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 See the troubles reviving, 
 
 O'er Labdacus shed, 
 See woes of the living 
 
 Join woes of the dead! 
 The father's life in anguish ends, 
 Fate's heir-loom to the son descends : 
 For the God, in secret lurking, 
 Still their overthrow is working. 
 The last shoot of that ancient tree 
 Was budding fair as fair might be, 
 And, beaming o'er it, seemed to shine 
 The fostering light of love divine : 
 Frenzy of spirit and folly of tongue 
 O'er it anew the cloud have flung. 
 
 The infernal band 
 
 Its downfall planned : 
 With gory scythe and unrelenting hand 
 See from the shades the Furies hie ; 
 
 Its buds they crop, 
 
 Its branches lop, 
 And leave the sapless stem to die. 
 
 Shall judgment be less strong than sin I 
 Shall man o'er Jove dominion win ? 
 No! sleep beneath his leaden sway 
 May hold but things that know decay. 
 The unwearied months with Godlike vigour move, 
 Yet cannot change the might of Jove. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. YZo 
 
 Compassed with dazzling light, 
 Throned on Olympus' height, 
 His front the eternal God uprears, 
 By toils unwearied, and unaged by years. 
 Far back through seasons past, 
 
 Far on through times to come, 
 Has been and still must last 
 Sin's never-failing doom : 
 Doom, whence with countless sorrows rife 
 Is erring man's tumultuous life. 
 Some, heeding hope's beguiling voice, 
 
 From virtue's pathway rove, 
 And some deluded make their choice 
 The levities of love. 
 
 Heedless they dream through pleasure's hour, 
 Nor mark the outstretched arm of power, 
 Till sure revenge its victim claims, 
 And burst their trance the scorching flames : 
 For well and wisely was it said, 
 That all, by Heaven to sorrows led, 
 Perverted by delirious mood, 
 Deem evil wears the shape of good, 1 
 
 (') Erfurdt quotes the following old Iambic lines in illustration 
 of this sentiment: 
 
 orau yap opyr] Sutfiovoov $\ainri nud, 
 tovt avrb irpwrov QcxpaipUTai (ppevocu 
 tov vovv rhv icrd\by, sis de 1-771/ X^P 00 Tp«r« 
 yi/d/iriu, 'lv et5?? nrfikv u>v d/napTaya. 
 
 When 
 
124 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 Chase the fair phantom, free from fears, 
 And waken to a life of tears ! 
 
 When on some mortal's fated head 
 The wrath of vengeful Heaven is shed, 
 The Gods first banish from his soul 
 Reflection's merciful control, 
 And lull his senses in the trance 
 Of soft, beguiling ignorance ; 
 Unconscious moves he mid the gloom, 
 Nor knows his sin, nor dreads his doom. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 777. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Antigone had been condemned to death for burying her 
 brother contrary to the commands of Creon. Haemon, son 
 of Creon, betrothed to Antigone, defends her cause against 
 his father. The Chorus in this Ode take occasion hence 
 to describe the irresistible power of Love, and express their 
 sympathy with Antigone and Haemon. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 777. 
 
 Unconquered Love ! whose mystic sway 
 Creation's varied forms obey, 1 
 
 (') Compare the following fragment of Sophocles : 
 
 S> 7raT5es, H] roi Kvirpts, ov Kvrrpis fxovov, 
 aAA. 5 €<tti TToWG>v bvofiaToiv iirwvv^os. 
 ecrriv /xeu A'/Stjs, eari 8' tiupOiros (Sia, 
 %gtiv 8e Xvffca /xaivas. to~ri 8 5 'ifxepos 
 &Kparos, eoV oi[xwy^.6s. iv Kelvr) to vav, 
 (jirovdaiov, rjavxcuov, is fiiuv dyov. 
 £vT7iK€T<zi yap ttusv/xouoou '6<rois svi, 
 ^/vxh tls ovx^ rrjcrSe ttjs 0eou fiopd ; 
 €tVepx €Taf 7®P lx®v<»v ttXojtcS y4uei" 
 eveari 8' iv x*P°' 0V rcT-pao-weAe? yovfj' 
 uufia 8' eV olwvolcn Tovneivrjs irrepov, 
 iv dripalv, iv 0poro7criv, iv deols dvw. 
 riv ov ira\aiovs' is rpls eK&dWei Otuv ; 
 et fioi. de/xis, Qifxis 8e rdx^drj Xeyeiv, 
 Albs rvpavve? irv€Vfj.6vwv, dvev Sopos' 
 (ivev o~idr)pov iravra tol crvvTe/xverai 
 Kwrpis to. 9vr)T<£v ku\ Qswv j8ouA.eu/u«Ta. 
 
 A thousand titles Venus bears, 
 
 A thousand changing forms she wears ; 
 
 Now passion wild ; now frenzied madness ; 
 
 Now strength, now death, now plaining sadness ; 
 
 All 
 
1£8 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 Who watchest long at midnight hour, 2 
 On the soft cheek of beauty's flower ; 
 Now inmate of the sylvan cot, 
 
 Now flitting o'er the waves, 
 Immortal Gods escape thee not, 
 Thou rulest man's ephemeral lot, 
 
 And he, who hath thee, raves. 3 
 
 All that can tranquillize or stir, 
 
 All opposites unite in her. 
 
 All beings her behest obey, 
 
 All hearts become in turn her prey. 
 
 She swims with fish the stormy main, 
 
 She walks with quadrupeds the plain, 
 
 She dwells in huts with mortals, 
 She cleaves the sky with birds of air, 
 Enters alike the wild beasts' lair, 
 
 The Gods' celestial portals. 
 Nor one of all the heavenly band 
 May dare defy her unarmed hand ; 
 
 Nay — though the tale be treason, 
 Without a spear, without a sword, 
 She rules the universal Lord ; 
 Nor against her may aid afford 
 
 Divine or human reason. 
 
 ( 2 ) " Ille virentis, et 
 Doctae psallere Chiae, 
 
 Pulcris excubat in genis." 
 
 Hor. Lib. IV. Ode IS. 
 
 Chia ! bright in Beauty's spring, 
 Skilled to wake the warbling string, 
 Love, on airy pinions free, 
 Blooming Chia ! flits to thee, 
 Keeps, with never-slumbering eyne, 
 Watch on that fair cheek of thine. 
 
 ( 3 ) Shakspeare declares " the Lover all as frantic" as the avowed 
 madman. (Midsummer Night's Dream.) And Burton, (Anatomy of 
 
 Melan- 
 
SOPH. A?\TIG. 129 
 
 Thy magic warps the right to wrong, 
 And troubles now the kindred throng ; 
 The look of love, yon destined bride 
 
 Darts from her pleading eye, 
 A subtle counsellor, hath vied 
 With mighty laws and princedom's pride, 
 
 And won the victory ; 
 
 Melancholy), " Love is a madness ; — that lovers are madmen, no 
 one will deny." 
 
 So also Byron : 
 
 " Who loves, raves: — 'tis youth's frenzy." 
 
 Compare Metastasio: 
 
 " Sperar senza consiglio, 
 
 Temer senza periglio, 
 Dar corpo all' ombre, e non dar fede al vero : 
 Figurar col pensiero 
 
 Cento vani fantasmi in ogni istante, 
 Sognar vegliando, e mille volte il giorno, 
 
 Morir senza morire, 
 
 Chiamar gioja il martire, 
 Pensar ad altri, ed obbliar se stesso, 
 
 E far passaggio spesso 
 Da timor in timor, da brama in brama, 
 E quella frenesia che amor si cbiama." 
 
 To hope where hope is vain, 
 
 To fear, from danger free, 
 To trust in shadows, then again 
 
 To doubt reality. 
 To nurse, each idle hour that flies, 
 A thousand fickle fantasies; 
 To dream awake; to pine away, 
 
 Yet bless the pangs that kill; 
 To die a thousand times a day, 
 
 And yet be living still; 
 
 k Each 
 
130 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 For in that supplicating gaze 
 
 The Queen of Love resistless plays. 
 
 I feel my stern resolves relent ; 
 
 Too harsh those mandates seem ; 
 My tears, within their fountain pent, 
 Flow forth a gushing stream, 
 To think that o'er thy woes, 
 Sad maiden, soon must close 
 The chambers of the dead, where all for aye repose. 
 
 Each struggling thought of self to smother 
 In ceaseless musings on another; 
 From hope to hope with restless mind, 
 
 From fear to fear to rove ; 
 Such is the frenzy that mankind 
 
 Deck with the name of Love! 
 
S O P H. A N T I G. 1 102. 
 
 K 2 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tiresias having declared that heavy judgments would fall 
 on Creon, King of Thebes, for his treatment of Antigone, 
 the Chorus, in the following Ode, entreat Bacchus to come 
 either from Parnassus or Eubcea to the aid of Thebes, the 
 country of Semele his mother. 
 
SOPH. AN TIG. 1102. 
 
 O thou, by many a name adored, 
 Thy Theban mother's glory, 
 
 Son of the Thunderer ! Guardian lord 
 Of bright Italia famed in story ! 
 
 King of the Eleusinian vale, 
 Where Ceres' bounties never fail, 1 
 
 ( l ) Bacchus is frequently associated with the mysteries of 
 Ceres. See Eurip. Ion. 1074. 
 
 ul(rxvvoixai rbv ivoXvv^vov 
 
 Qibu, et 7rept KuAAix^poiai irayuls 
 
 AafnrdSa Otccpbv elicddw 
 
 6\p€T<Zl eVVVXLOS O.VTTVOS &v, 
 
 otc kcu Aios ao-repeoirbs 
 avexopzvcrev cu'(%» 
 Xopzvti §e SeAavo 
 teal irevT7)KovTa Kopai 
 Ni7pe'os, ai Kcrra ttovtuv 
 aevvdcav re irorafxwu 
 divas xopeud,uevca 
 
 TO.V XP v ^O(TT€(pUVOU KOpUP 
 
 koI f-iarepa ae/j-pdv. 
 
 I blush 
 
134 
 
 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 Bacchus ! throned mid Thebe's walls, 
 Mother of thy bacchanals, 
 Where the pure Ismenus flows, 
 Where the dragon-race arose ! 
 Oft, on the doubly-crested height, 
 Where nymphs of Corycus delight 
 
 To revel on the green ; 
 Where flows Castalia's sacred stream, 
 The smouldering fires, that nightly gleam," 
 
 Thy Godlike form have seen : 
 
 I blush lest Bacchus mark our throng ; 
 
 Bacchus, theme of many a song ; 
 When maids in mystic ring are dancing, 
 When, on the sacred day advancing, 
 Our torches round the well are glancing. 
 For fixed are aye his wakeful eyes 
 On Ceres' midnight mysteries. 
 
 When the moon, beside the waters, 
 
 Dances with the starry air ; 
 When speed in troops old Nereus' daughters, 
 
 To tread a choral measure there ; 
 They who, deep in ocean's caves, 
 Or amid the restless waves 
 Of streams that roll their chafing tide, 
 By some perennial fount supplied, 
 Whirling oft in dances wild, 
 
 The giddy torrent stem, 
 For hallowed Ceres and her child, 
 Queen of the golden diadem ! 
 
 ( 7 ) Compare Eurip. Phoen. 22G. 
 
 S> Acifxirovaa irerpa rrvpbs 
 diKopvcpov (riXas vwhp ait.pwi' 
 Bcwx G ' w ^> Atouicruv 
 oiva 0\ a KuOa/Upiou 
 
 (TTUfeii 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 135 
 
 And Nysa's verdant banks, where twine 3 
 The ivy and the clustering vine, 
 
 (rrd^eis rbv iroXvKupirov ol- 
 vdvQas Utcra Borpw, 
 £d8ed t' dvrpa SpaKOvros, ov- 
 peiai re (TKOTTiat deuu. 
 vi<poBo\6v t' upos Upbv, ei- 
 Xiaaruiv dOavdrus deov 
 XOpbs yevnlfxav &<pofios, 
 irapa l ueo'6/j.(pn\u yva\a $oi- 
 Bov, Aipnav itpoAnrovaa. 
 
 Thou crag, that towerest o'er the height. 
 
 Where Bacchus loves to stray, 
 Where, shed from either summit, light 
 
 Mysterious seems to play ; 
 Thou vine, with thousand clusters hung, 
 
 Whence, daily, wine is welling ; 
 Ye haunted scenes the cliffs among, 
 
 Thou cave, the dragon's dwelling ; 
 Thou snow-clad hill! O might I flee 
 To tread the sacred dance on thee, 
 And far from Dirce's fountains roam, 
 To view Apollo's central -home ! 
 
 And Eurip. Ion. 713. 
 
 tVo rs SeipdSiS Tlapvaaov ireTpas 
 exovaui o~k6tt£\ov ovpdviov 6' edpav, 
 tra Banxios, djxcpnrvpovs dvzx<*> v irev- 
 Kas, Xaupiipd irr)- 
 ca vvKTiiroAois d/u.u <tv'j Bdnxcus. 
 
 There Olympus' cliffs arise, 
 Crags, that tower to meet the skies, 
 Bacchus there, in either hand, 
 Waves at night the pine-tree brand, 
 Lightly o'er the summits bounding ; 
 Bacchanals their lord surrounding. 
 
 (/') At Nysa, in Eubcea, was said to be a vine, remarkable for the 
 miraculous rapidity with which its grapes ripened. It is probably 
 
 alluded 
 
136 SOPH. ANTIG. 
 
 Have sent thee forth, while round thee rung 
 Evoe ! from many a votary's tongue, 
 To view that city of the earth, 
 
 The most beloved by thee ; 
 Thebes, home of her who gave thee birth, 
 
 The lightning-blasted Semele. 
 
 Fell Plague, with iron hand, 
 
 Now grasps that fated land : 
 Preserver ! speed with healing step to save, 
 Or down Parnassus' slope, or o'er the booming wave. 
 
 alluded to in the passage of the Phcenissse quoted above ; and 
 again in the following fragment of the Thyestes of Sophocles : 
 
 v E<rn yap tis cuaAia ir6\is 
 777s Evfiaeias, zvQa BaKX 6i0? fiorpvs 
 e7r' y)fxap epirti' -FpSoTa \xkv Au/XTrpas eco 
 iceK\7ifJLa,TO0Tcu x®P 0S ' oivduOris 54/u.as 
 e?r' -fji-iap av^ei /xeaauv, ofxcpaKos rpoirov, 
 koX KXiverui ye, KaTToirepKovTtxi fiorpvs' 
 de'iAy 8e Travel refj-uerai fiAacrrovfj.evr) 
 kuAcos biroopa, KavaKipvarai ttotov. 
 
 Upon Eubcea's coast is seen 
 
 A wondrous vine to shoot, 
 At sunrise 'tis with tendrils green, 
 
 At sunset dark with fruit ; 
 At dawn it spreads its leaves around, 
 
 At noon-tide blooms its flower, 
 And soon with grapes its boughs are crowned, 
 
 That ripen every hour : 
 And now more soft, now purple grown, 
 
 The clusters lade the vine, 
 And when the evening shades draw on. 
 
 The peasant quaffs the wine. 
 
SOPH. ANTIG. 137 
 
 Thou that in mystic measures leadest 
 
 The fire-breathing orbs on high, 
 Thou that with ear attentive heedest 
 Thy Bacchant's midnight minstrelsy ! 
 Appear, thou radiant boy, 
 Great son of Jove, bright lord of joy ! 
 Thy frenzied throng, thy Naxian maidens, bring, 
 Who, whirled in dizzy mazes, sing, 
 Throughout the livelong night, thee, their immortal 
 King ! 
 
SOPH. TRACH. 94. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Hercules having remained long absent from his home, the 
 Chorus in this Ode express their desire to know where he 
 may be lingering, and attempt to console Deianeira. 
 
SOPH. TRACE 94. 
 
 Thou flaming Sun ! whom spangled Night, 1 
 Self-destroying, brings to light, 
 Then lulls to sleep again ; 
 
 (*) Compare a fragment of Stesichorus (Ed. Giles) : 
 
 'AeAtus 5' 'TirepioviSas SeVas 
 
 eauarefiaiue xp-bcrzav, 
 
 ucppu 8t' 0DKeavo7o irepdaas 
 
 acpinoiB' lepas irorl fievdea 
 
 vvktoS ipe/xvas, 
 
 irorl (.iwrepa., Kuvpifiiav r &Xoxov, 
 
 7raif8as re (piXovs. 
 
 The Sun, Hyperion's child, behold, 
 Now launched upon his bowl of gold, 
 Through Ocean bound to take his flight 
 To the dusky caves of holy Night, 
 Where flock his children round his side, 
 Where dwell his mother and his bride. - 
 
 The "bowl of gold" is explained by the following passage of 
 Mimnermus : speaking of the sun, he says, 
 
 rov fj\v yap 8m Kv/.ca cpepei iro\vf)pa.TOS ewrj 
 KOiKt), 'H<puio~Tuv xeptrlz/ ehrjAa/neurf 
 
 Xpvaov 
 
142 SOPH. TRACH. 
 
 Bright Herald, girt with beaming rays, 
 Say, where Alcmena's offspring strays ; 2 
 
 Say, lurks he on the main ? 
 
 Or lays his head to rest, 
 On Europe or on Asia's breast ? 
 
 In pity deign reply, 
 
 Thou of the lordly eye ! 
 
 Xpvaov rijiirieuTos, vnoirrepos, OLKpov £<f> iiSwp 
 evSovtf dpTTohicos, x^pov acp' 'EaTreptdcay, 
 
 yuiav es Aidioiruv 'iva ol Qobv dpfia nai 'iiriroi 
 iffrus', 6<pp' 'H&s ripiyeveia /uoAti' 
 
 iud' ine^T] kripcav d^ewy 'Tirepiovos vlos. 
 
 In a hollow couch he lays his head, 
 
 To skim the sea's dominions, 
 Of precious gold is framed the bed, 
 
 And launched on airy pinions. 
 'Twas wrought of old by Vulcan's hand, 
 
 It wafts through Ocean lightly, 
 From Hesperus' maids to iEthiop land 
 
 Hyperion slumbering nightly. 
 There are his steeds and chariot stowed, 
 
 Till early morn arise, 
 Then quits his midnight shell the God, 
 
 And mounts again the skies. 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare Homer, Hymn to Ceres, 62. 
 
 'He\iov 8 s 'Ikovto, dew ckottov 7j5e kcu avdpaiv, 
 crrav 8' 'Itvttuv irpoirapoiB?, ko\ etpero 8ta 6eawV 
 'HeA.t 5 atd<z<T<rai fxe 0eas vnep, e<f -/rore St? aev 
 t] en-et t) epycp KpaBirjv ical Ovfibv trjua' 
 Kohpr\v, %v ereKOV, yAvKepov 6a\os, ei'Sei." Kvdp7)v, 
 rrjs a8ivr)v ott' anovcra 8t' alOepos arpvyeroio 
 (Ixrre &iu£ofji.€vris, arap ouk ftW 6cp9a\fxo7criv. 
 a\Xa (Tv yap 8?? ircxrau enl xQova Kal Kara itovtov 
 alOepos e/c 8177s KarudepKccu aKTiveffffiv, 
 ur)fj.epTews fJLOi evKrrre, <pl\ov tckos, ei* ttou uircoiras, 
 oottis voacpiv 4fj.e7o Aa/3cW asKovaav avayttrj 
 oix.€Tai rje 6ewi> 7) iced QvTyr&v avdpanroop. 
 
 They 
 
SOPH. TRACIf. 1 -4-3 
 
 His bride, erst won by desperate fray, 
 Muses where lies his dangerous way ; 
 Like some sad bird, her soul is set 
 On constancy and vain regret : 
 Sleep never seals those eyes, where woe 
 Lies all too deep for tears to flow, 
 While thought and boding Fancy's dread 
 Flit ever round her lonely bed. 
 
 Oft when the northern blast, 
 Or southern winds unwearied rave, 
 
 Ye see the ocean cast 
 In quick succession wave on wave ; 
 
 They reached at length the Sun's ahode, 
 The faithful spy of man and God, 
 
 They stood before his steeds ; 
 Then thus the Goddess spoke : — " If e'er, 
 " When brooded o'er thee anxious care, 
 
 " I've soothed by word or deeds ; 
 " Grant in return a mother's prayer, 
 " Where is my child ? oh ! tell me where ! 
 u No sweeter bud might bless the eye, 
 
 '•' Glorious her beauty shone, 
 " Through the waste of air her hurried cry, 
 " A voice of struggling agony, 
 
 " I heard, but heard alone. 
 " I saw her not : — but thou the maze 
 
 " Of earth and air canst spy, 
 " From heavenly aether dart thy rays 
 
 " Their searching scrutiny. 
 " Tell me then, for thou canst say, 
 " Who bore by force the maid away ? 
 ir Who matured the fatal plan 1 
 " Was it God, or mortal man?" 
 
144 SOPH. TRACH. 
 
 So, to whelm old Cadmus' son, 
 Rush redoubled labours on, 
 Thick as round the Cretan shore 
 The swoln and turbid billows roar : 
 Yet his step from Pluto's halls 
 Still some unerring God recalls. 
 My Queen ! disdain not thou to brook 
 My chidings kind, and soft rebuke, 
 Nor cast away, in morbid mood, 
 The cheering hope of future good. 
 For universal nature's lord, 
 Saturn's great son, by all adored, 
 Enjoyment willed not to bestow 
 On human lot, unmixed with woe : 
 Grief and delight, in endless change, 3 
 Round man in mazy circles range, 
 
 ( 3 ) Compare the following passage from Sackville : 
 
 " Then looking upwards to the heaven's leames, 
 
 With nightes starres thick powdred every where, 
 
 Which erst so glistened with the golden stremes 
 That golden Phoebus spread down from his sphere, 
 
 Beholding darke, oppressing day so neare : 
 
 The sodaine sight reduced to my mind 
 
 The sundry chaunges that on earth we finde." 
 
 See also Cornelia, (Dodsley's Old Plays,) vol. ii. p. 253. 
 " The wide world's accidents are apt to change, 
 And tickle Fortune stays not in a place ; 
 But like the clouds continually doth range, 
 
 Or like the sun that hath the night in chace. 
 Then as the heavens, by whom our hopes are guided, 
 Do coast the earth with an eternal course, 
 
 We 
 
soph, tracii. 145 
 
 Like never-setting stars, that roll 
 In ceaseless courses round the pole. 
 Soon spangled night must yield to day, 
 Soon wealth, soon trouble flits away ; 
 In turn, so fixed the eternal plan, 
 Bliss and bereavement wait on man. 
 My Queen! on hope thy soul be stayed, 
 
 Nor yield thee to despair ; 
 When bath not Jove his children made 
 
 His providential care ? 
 
 We must not think a misery betided 
 
 Will never cease, but still grow worse and worse. 
 
 When icy Winter's past, then comes the Spring, 
 Whom Summer's pride with sultry heat pursues; 
 
 To whom mild Autumn does earth's treasure bring, 
 The sweetest season that the wise can chuse. 
 
 Heaven's influence was ne'er so constant yet, 
 
 In good or bad as to continue it. 
 
 See also Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy : 
 
 " 'Tis most absurd and ridiculous for any mortal man to look 
 for a perpetual tenour of happiness in this life ; 'tis like a chequer 
 table, black and white : 
 
 ' Invicem cedunt dolor et voluptas.' 
 
 He that knows not this, and is not armed to endure it, is not fit to 
 live in this world ; he knows not the condition of it, where, with a 
 reciprocal tie, pleasure and pain are still united, and succeed one 
 another in a ring." 
 
EURIP. HEC. 444. 
 
 L 2 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The following Ode is supposed to be sung by a Chorus of 
 Trojan women, who, after the capture of their city, had 
 fallen to the lot of the conquerors as slaves. 
 
E U R I P. H E C. 141. 
 
 Thou gale ! thou ocean gale ! 
 That waftest light our shallop o'er the waves, 
 
 Where shall the fluttering sail 
 Convey a weeping band of captive slaves? 
 
 Shall Dorian land, 
 Or Pthian strand 
 
 Inure our youth to toil, 
 Where, sire of mighty waters, feeds 
 Apidanus the flowery meads ? 
 Or shall the loudly-dashing oar 
 Conduct us, mid the billows' roar, 
 
 To weep on Delian soil ? 
 W T here palms l their earliest bloom display, 
 Where rears its sacred shade the bay,. 
 
 (') Compare Horn. Hym. in Apol. Del. 
 
 Xoupe, naicoup* 3) Atjto?, eVet re/ces ayAau tckvu, 
 'AiroAXowa t duuKTa kou "ApTe/xiv io-^4aipav, 
 t)\v [.Ckv sv ""Oprvyir], rhv Se Kpavurj eVt A-^Aw, 
 KeicXifxwr) rrphs /xanpov opos ku\ KvvOiov ox^ou, 
 ayxoTOLTU} (po'iviKos €7r' 'ivu-rroto peeOpois. 
 
 Hail ! Latona, blessed for ever ! 
 Mother of a peerless pair ! 
 
 For 
 
150 EURIP. IIEC. 
 
 That erst on lorn Latona smiled, 
 
 Now loves to grace her deathless child, 
 
 Must we, mid Dian's virgin ring, 
 
 Her bow and golden fillet sing ? 
 
 Or shall our lot be fixed by Fate, 
 
 Within Minerva's Attic gate, 
 
 To bid the forms with meaning rife 
 
 Start on the canvass forth to life ? 
 
 Deck the rich web with patterns quaint, 
 
 Thy mimic chargers, Pallas, paint, 
 
 And yoke them to thy radiant car, 
 
 Or trace the Titans' impious war, 
 
 Who sunk to sleep beneath the brand 
 
 The Thunderer launched from either hand ? 
 
 My children ! take my parting tear ; 
 
 Take it, mine ancient sires ! 
 My land ! where rages Graecia's spear, 
 
 Mid ruin, smoke and fires : 
 Now Europe's handmaid ! — far from thee, 
 
 They '11 taunt me as a slave ; 
 Oh ! ill exchange such agony 
 
 For chambers of the grave ! 
 
 For who may shun Diana's quiver? 
 
 Or who Apollo's wrath can bear? 
 She in Ortygia's isle was born ; 
 He on Delos' rocks forlorn ; 
 Though long the steep, and dark the brow 
 
 Of frowning Cynthus seem, 
 Yet there the palm its friendly bough 
 
 Spreads o'er Inopus' stream. 
 
EUR I P. HEC. 880, 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The following Ode is supposed to be sung by captive Trojan 
 women, after they had reached the Thracian Chersonesus 
 on their way to Greece. 
 
E U R I P. H E C. 886. 
 
 My native Troy ! to future ages, 
 
 Thine ancient title none shall tell, 
 The City of the Impregnable ! 
 The spear, the spear, within thee rages ; 
 Dark lowers the cloud of Greeks around thee : 
 Ne'er, ne'er again 
 May I tread thy plain ; 
 Shorn are the towers that crowned thee, 
 Soiled is the vest that bound thee 
 With ashes' foulest stain. 
 
 The fatal hour was*nidnight's calm, 
 
 When the feast was done, and sleep, like balm. 
 
 Was shed on every eye ; 
 Hushed was the choral symphony, 
 
 The sacrifice was o'er ; 
 My Lord to rest his limbs had flung, 
 His idle spear in its place was hung, 
 
 He dreamed of foes no more : 
 
154 EUR1P. HEC. 
 
 And I, while I lost my listless gaze 
 
 In the depth of the golden mirror's blaze, 
 
 That my last light task was aiding, 
 Was wreathing with fillets my tresses' maze, 
 
 And with playful fingers braiding. 
 
 There came a shout ! 
 Through the noiseless city the cry rung out ; 
 " Your homes are won, if ye scale the tower, 
 " Sons of the Greeks ! is it not the hour?" 
 
 I caught the wild alarm ; 
 I fled arrayed 
 Like Dorian maid, 
 With a single vest thrown o'er me ; 
 At Dian's shrine my suit preferred, 
 But ill my prayer the Goddess heard, 
 
 They slew my Lord before me ; 
 I was dragged along by a ruffian arm, 
 
 To the briny deep they bore me : 
 Thence, as the vessel o'er the wave 
 
 Heaved on its homeward way, 
 To Troy one parting look I gave, 
 
 Then sunk and swooning lay. 
 
 Helen ! I woke to curse thy sins, 
 Base sister of the Godlike twins ; 
 Thee and thy craven Paris, nursed 
 Mid Ida's hinds and herds, I cursed. 
 
EURIP. IIEC. 155 
 
 Your wedlock, demon-planned. 
 
 Hath driven me forth to roam, 
 Hath swept me from my father's land, 
 
 Unhoused me from my home. 
 Wedlock ! — nay, let its title be 
 That foul fiend's dark malignity ! 
 But ne'er may Helen, o'er the billow, 
 
 Be safely borne to Greece, 
 Nor in her father's palace, pillow 
 
 That guilty head in peace. 
 
EURIP. PHGEN. 784. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Polynices, son of CEdipus, having formed an alliance with 
 Adrastus, King of Argos, marched to attack his brother 
 Eteocles, who disputed with him the sovereignty of Thebes. 
 The Chorus, resident in that city, but composed of Phoe- 
 nician women, sing, on occasion of this war, the following 
 Ode to Mars, and contrast the ancient glory of Thebes 
 with the troubles which had overwhelmed it since the acces- 
 sion of the house of Labdacus. 
 
EURIP. PH(EN. 784. 
 
 Author of woes, relentless Mars ! 
 
 Busied in death and strife, 
 How with the feast of Bacchus, jars 
 Thy madding life ! 
 Not in the festal ring, mid beauty's bloom, 
 Thy tresses loosely float ; 
 Nor thine the liquid note, 
 
 The lotus-breathed strain, 
 
 That bids the graceful train 
 The mazy steps resume. 
 
 War's armed hosts are thine ; 
 The Argive Champions press on Thebe's line, 
 Kindled by thy flaming breath, 
 Thou leader of the dance of death, 
 Whose only music is the cry 
 Of battle's joyless revelry! 
 Ne'er was it thine to rear 
 The ivy-wreathed spear, 
 
160 EURIF. PI1CEX. 
 
 Nor roam, in fawn-skin 1 clad, the mountain side; 
 
 The car, the bit, the sword, 
 
 Own thee their restless lord, 
 To thee obedient wheels the trampling charger's 
 pride. 
 
 Now, beside Ismenus' stream, 
 
 For thee the horseman's trappings gleam ; 
 
 (') This was the peculiar dress of Bacchus. Compare a passage 
 attributed by Macrobius (Saturnal. I.) to Euripides, but still 
 extant in the Frogs of Aristophanes : 
 
 Aiovvaos %s, 8vpaoi(Ti Kal vefipwi/ Sopcus 
 
 KadaTTTos, iv TrevKaiai Tlapvaadbv KaraTnjSa x°P*voov. 
 
 Around his limbs the fawn- skin wearing, 
 The spear enwreathed with ivy bearing, 
 While the torch of pine in his hand is glancing, 
 See Bacchus on Parnassus dancing. 
 
 And in the following lines, quoted as Orphic by Macrobius (ibid.) 
 in which the sun is identified with Bacchus, the God is described 
 as thus arraying himself : 
 
 irpwTa fikv apyvcpeais evuXiyKiov aKTivecratv 
 iriirKov (poivineov irvpuKeKov a/j.(pij3a\4a8ai' 
 avrap vrrepBe vefipoio iravatoAov evpv KaQa^ai 
 Sepfj.a iro?\.vaTiKTOU drjpbs kvto. Se|tov &[iov, 
 u<TTpwv dcuSuAeav fi(fJ.r]fi lepov re ivoKoio. 
 
 First the God around him threw 
 
 A flame-like robe of crimson hue, 
 
 Bright as are the glowing rays 
 
 That stream from the sun in summer days. 
 
 Next across his shoulders drawn 
 
 Was the dappled skin of mountain-fawn, 
 
 By whose thousand spangles a type was given 
 
 Of the stars that ?era the holv heaven. 
 
EURIP. PIIGEN* 161 
 
 By thee inspired, the Argive foes 
 The children of the earth oppose; 
 Marauding chiefs ! their daily meal 
 'Tis theirs to purchase by their steel, 
 Nor quail, though massy walls defy 
 The prowess of their chivalry. 
 
 Strife ! a mighty Goddess thou ; 
 
 By thy severe decree, 
 O'erwhelmed with troubles, bow 
 
 The doomed Labdacidae. 
 
 Cithaeron ! mid whose heaven-blest grove, 
 A thousand beasts in freedom rove, 
 Eye of Dian ! 2 nurse of snow ! 
 
 Why, mid thy thickets budding wild, 
 Was laid the infant-heir of woe, 
 
 Jocasta's outcast child ? 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare Milt. Par. Reg. IV. 
 
 " Athens, the eye of Greece," 8rc. 
 And the well-known passage of Catullus : 
 
 " Peninsularum Sirmio, insularumque 
 Ocelle, quascunque in linguentibus stagnis, 
 Marique vasto fert uterque Neptunus, 
 Quam te libenter, quamque lsetus inviso, 
 Vix mi ipse credens Thyniam, Bithynosque 
 Liquisse campos, et videre te in tuto." 
 
 Sirmio, where nature softly smiles, 
 Eye of peninsulas and isles ! 
 Thou fairest spot the waters lave, 
 In tranquil lake or tossing wave, 
 
 m Thou 
 
162 EURIP. PIICEN. 
 
 Of sufferings presage meet, 
 E'en then the golden clasp wounded his tender feet. 
 
 Why, from thy wood-girt crown, 
 
 Flew the fell monster down, 
 The accursed Sphynx, a virgin's grace assuming ? 
 
 Why (by the Nine abhorred) 
 
 Was her dread descant poured, 
 To early death the sons of Cadmus dooming ? 
 
 When, on these our walls descending, 
 
 When, her crooked talons bending, 
 With her prey in rapid flight, 
 She soared to realms of unapproached light, 
 
 When Hades' monarch found in her, 
 Against the Theban race, his chosen minister ! 
 
 See ! on sorrow's ancient stock 
 
 Anew the buds of strife are blowing, 
 
 Our homes, our city, feel the shock, 
 The sons of (Edipus o'erthrowing. 
 
 For the silent lapse of time 
 
 Cannot change thy nature, crime ! 
 
 Thou fairest spot by Neptune found, 
 Far as the shores his empire bound ; 
 Returning from Bithynia's snows, 
 How at thy sight my bosom glows, 
 Yet scarce believes that I can be 
 Escaped from Thrace, restored to thee 
 
EURIP. PHCEN. 1C)3 
 
 Wedlock that the Gods forbid 
 Ne'er shall be of trouble rid, 
 Ne'er may righteous Heaven approve 
 Offspring of unholy love. 
 
 Yet wert thou great of old ; 
 Far in my childhood's home, thy glory, Thebes, was 
 told : 
 How, when, gorged with many a feast, 
 Fell the purple-crested beast, 
 From thy teeming sod released, 
 
 His teeth's armed offspring sprung ; 
 How each proud, immortal guest, 
 Fair Harmonia's bridal blest ; 
 How, by a master's finger prest, 
 
 The harp enchanted rung ; 
 'Tis Amphion's charmed lay, — 
 See the stones his lyre obey, 
 And, mid the rising turrets, play 
 
 Two never-failing streams ; 
 There flows, in herbage-margined bed, 
 The rill, from Dirce's fountain fed ; 
 
 Here bright Ismenus gleams : 
 And horned Io, loved of yore 
 By Jove, Cadmean monarchs bore ; 
 And thousand, thousand blessings fell, 
 Thebes, on thy favoured citadel, 
 Thy citadel, now glancing down 
 On that wild camp of Mars, that girds thee like a 
 crown. 
 
 M 2 
 
EURIP. MED. 818. 
 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Medea, deserted by Jason, resolves to kill her children, and 
 then to take refuge with /Egeus, King of Athens. The 
 Chorus dissuade her from the murder by representing the 
 beauty and sanctity of Athens. 
 
EURIP. MED. 818. 
 
 Blessed from the olden time, 
 Cradled in a sunny clime, 1 
 Culling from each holy dell, 
 In every age impregnable, 
 Brightest wisdom's precious fere, 
 Gliding through their dazzling air, 
 Sons of Heaven, with courtly grace. 
 Bloom the Erechtheidan race. 
 There Pierian maids of yore 
 Yellow-haired Harmonia bore \ 
 Venus there a pearly draught 
 From the pure Cephisus quailed, 
 
 (') Compare Milton, l'.u- Reg. IV. 
 
 " on the JEgean shore a city stand?;, 
 Built nobly, pure the air and light the soil." 
 
 We learn from Cicero, that the superiority of Attic wil was re- 
 ferred in some measure to the clearness of the atmosphere in Attica 
 
168 EUR1P. MED. 
 
 Then athwart the flowery vales 
 Wafted softly tempered gales, 
 Rosy garlands, perfume breathing, 2 
 Mid her mazy tresses wreathing. 
 All her loves attendant came, 
 And with wisdom blent, to frame 
 Perfect virtue, that should be 
 Graceful in its purity ! 
 
 ( 2 ) Compare Chaucer's description of Venus : 
 
 " A citole in hire right hand hadde she, 
 And on hire hed, ful semely for to see, 
 A rose garland, fresh and well smelling." 
 
 Knight's Tale. 196L 
 
 Compare also the following fragment attributed to Sappho : 
 
 al toIs (LvBecriv tf6e\ep 6 Zeus iiriOelvcu &acri\ea, to podov 
 av twv av6ect>v ejSaciAeue. yus icrrl KocrfAOS, cpvroov ky\aio~ixu, 
 6(p0a\fxos av6eoov, epvOa/na Aeifxoouos, KiikXos aarpdirrov epcuTos 
 Trveei, 'Acppomrav 7rpo|e^et, zveiSeai cpvAAois ko/ulS,, evKwfjrois 
 7reTd\.ots rpvcpq' to irtraKov rep Ze<bvpa> yeXd. 
 
 If Jove should make a Queen of flowers, 
 
 The rose his queen should be; 
 The ornament of summer bowers, 
 
 The pride of earth is she. 
 Eye of flowrets ! meadow's glow, 
 
 Dazzling like lightning glare, 
 Thence fraught with love sweet odours blow, 
 
 And Venus nestles there. 
 Her leaflets float like airy tresses, 
 Her buds the roving gale caresses ; 
 Those buds that coyly love to play, 
 And Zephyr with a smile repay. 
 
EI RIP. MED. 169 
 
 Shall then that city of the waters, 
 
 That land, to righteousness a friend, 
 Admit among her spotless daughters, 
 The mother that her children slaughters ? 
 Mark to what thy counsels tend : 
 To mercy let thy murderous purpose bend. 
 See us, to dissuade thee, kneeling, -\ 
 
 And no more, thy bosom steeling, > 
 
 Nerve thine arm, and blunt thy feeling. 5 
 How can that eye, 
 On thy doomed offspring fixed, be tearless still and 
 dry? 
 How, when thy pity they implore, 
 And suppliant fall thy feet before, 
 Canst thou thy delicate hand imbrue in infant gore? 
 
EURIP. HIP. 1270. 
 
EUR I P. HIP. 1270. 
 
 Venus ! thy eternal sway 
 All the race of man obey; 
 Heaven's unbending spirits own 
 Thraldom of thy power alone. 1 
 Waving o'er thee as he flies 
 Painted plumes of thousand dyes, 
 Love on rapid pinion speeds ; 
 Now he flits o'er flowery meads, 
 
 ( l ) Compare Anac. Frag. 
 
 "Epwra yap rov a&phv 
 /j.4XTTop.ai, fipvovra fxirpais 
 TTO\vavQ4fj.ois aeiBuv. 
 6yh nal decau SvvaaT^s, 
 ode ical fipSrovs Sa/xd^ei. 
 
 Love my lyre shall now employ ; 
 Love, the soft and pampered boy, 
 Wreathed with bands of thousand flowers, 
 Nurslings of the spring-tide hours ^ 
 Tyrant he of Gods above ; 
 Mortals bear the yoke of Love. 
 
174 EURIP. HIP. 
 
 Now where, softly murmuring, flow 
 Ocean's briny waves below; 
 When from high, in frenzy wild, 
 Swoops thy golden-gleaming child, 2 
 
 ( 2 ) Different genealogies of Love are given by the Greek writers. 
 
 According to Plato (Symposium), he is the son of Poverty and 
 
 Contrivance. Compare Aristoph. Av. 694, 
 
 Xdos %v, Kal vt/£, epefiSs T€ fxiXav -npoorov, nal Taprapos evp{>s. 
 777 S 5 , ovS' a?7p, ovd' ovpavos i\V ipefiovs 8* eV airelpocri k6\ttois 
 Tittret irpwTKTTOV virrjve/juov vv\ 77 /xeAuvSirTepos ch6v. 
 e£ ov TrepireWofJiduais &pais e/JAacrrej' ''Epcas o irodsivbs, 
 arixficov v&tov Trrepvyoiv xpvauiv, clicks ave/xcoKecn divcus. 
 ovtos 8e x^ et Trrepoei/Ti /xiyels v\)y[($ Kara, Tdprapov svpvu 
 ii'eoTTevffe yevos fj/jLerepov, kou irpwrou avhyaysv is (puis, 
 irpSrepov 8' ovk i]V ykvos aduvaToov, irpiv "Epcas avu4/xi^ev airuvra. 
 
 In former times, so legends tell, 
 
 Lived Chaos, Darkness, Night, and Hell, 
 
 A lonely band, before that Earth, 
 
 Or Air, or Light, or Heaven had birth. 
 
 Then Night reclined on Darkness' breast 
 
 Her raven wing, and built her nest ; 
 
 There, sheltering in the boundless shade, 
 
 A solitary egg she laid. 
 
 The egg is hatched : from out it springs 
 
 Young Love, with golden gleaming wings, 
 
 Fleet as the driving wind ; 
 In Tartarus' palace, by his side, 
 Moved Chaos dark, his winged bride, 
 
 Thence sprung our feathered kind ; 
 Nor ye the ancient lineage scorn, 
 Of Love the Gods themselves were born. 
 
 Compare also Simmias Rhodius : 
 
 othi ye Kvirpidos irais, 
 uKvireTCLS 8' avrbs "Epws KaXevfiai' 
 ovri yap eKprjvu /3la, Trav 8' iirpdvua ireiQol. 
 ei/ret ifiol ycua, 9a\acraas re nvxbs, x^ Keos ovpauSs re, 
 rcSv eyci* eKvoacpiaafxav coyvyiov anaiTTpov, tKpivov 8e 6eo?s defiiaras. 
 
 Though 
 
EURIP, HIP, 175 
 
 Beasts that roam the mountain side, 
 Tenants of the ocean tide, 
 Man, and every race, that earth 3 
 Gently fosters from their birth ; 
 
 Though fleet my wing, and Love my name, 
 
 I am not Cytherea's son ; 
 Not mine to kindle Passion's flame, 
 
 But gentle hearts by me are won. 
 The earth, the sea, the brazen heaven, 
 Are all to my dominion given; 
 The sceptre of the Gods I stole, 
 And sit supreme and rule the whole. 
 
 (a) Compare Homer's Hymn to Venus: 
 
 Movad fioi ivveire epya TroAvxpvcrov 'AtppoSlrTis, 
 KvTrpiSos. rjT€ Qeoiaip eiri yXvKvv '{pepov Sipcrev, 
 Kai r iSafidcrcraTO cpvXa KaradviqToov dvOpocnrow, 
 olavovs re tiuirereas Kai Bripla nrdvra, 
 7]fikv oa rjireipos iroXXa. rpecpei t/§' ocra ttovtos, 
 Traaiv 5' epya fie/xriXev eixxretpdvov Kv8epeir)S. 
 rpiaaas 5' ov tivvarai izemdelu cppevus oi>5' dirarriGai' 
 Kovpt\v t alyioxoio Aibs yXavKcomS' 'A6-I}V7]U' 
 ov ydp 01 aSev epya iroXvxpvaov 'A(ppodiT7)S, 
 aXX' &pu oi iroXe^oi re afiov Kai epyou v Ap7jos 
 va/juvai re /xa^cu re, Kai dyXaa spy' aXeyvveiv. 
 irpwrrj reKrovas dvdpas ciri}(6oviovs iSiSa^ev 
 iroirjaai crarivas re koX dpfxara iro'iKiXa x a ^ K V- 
 $) Se re trapQeviKas diraXoxpoas eu fxeydpotaiv 
 dyXaa epy' eSida^ev ivi <ppeol 6e7ca eKaarrj. 
 ovfih iror 'Apre/xiSa x? V0 " r )^ liaT0V KeXudeiur/v 
 SafJ-vurai ev <biXorr}Ti (piXofj.fxei87]S 'Atppotiirrj. 
 Kai yap rfj aSe ro\a Kai ovpeai Orjpas evaipeiv, 
 <p6p/j.iyy4s re x°P 0i Te tiiairpvcrioi r' oXoXvyal 
 aXcred re am6evra SiKatocv re tttoXis dvdp&v. 
 ouSe fxev aldo'iy Kovpy adei/ epy' ' A<ppof)irr]S, 
 'I(Ttlt], %v TTp(aTT]v reKero YLpovos dyKvXo/j.7]rr]s, 
 ■noTViav, %v efivSovro UoaeiSdwv ical 'AiroXXcoW 
 
 ?l tie 
 
17G eurip. hip. 
 
 All the burning sun can spy, 
 Own the Hunter's witchery; 
 
 5j 8e jxal^ ovk e0eAei/, aAAci (rrepeus airzuirev, 
 &fxu<re 5e /xeyav opuov, 6 dy TeTeAecr^eVos iarlu, 
 dtyaiJ.ei'r) KecpaXris irarpos Aibs alyioxoio, 
 irapBivos eaaeadai iravr' jjfxara, 8?a dedwv. 
 
 Muses ! your sweetest warblings wake 
 
 For golden Aphrodite's sake : 
 
 She o'er the Gods soft love can shed, 
 
 She mortal man controls ; 
 And birds and beasts her influence dread, 
 
 And Ocean's scaly shoals. 
 At thy bidding- bow they down, 
 Goddess of the radiant crown ! 
 Three only of the heavenly band 
 Can thy persuasive wiles withstand. 
 
 The blue-eyed Pallas, chaste and wise, 
 Golden Venus still defies. 
 
 The battle, the rattle 
 Of helmet and spear, 
 
 The story of glory 
 To her are most dear. 
 She taught the smith to frame for war 
 The wain and brazen- studded car ; 
 And maids, who lend to her attention, 
 Learn industry and quick invention. 
 
 And vainly Venus may caress 
 The golden arrow's patroness, 
 For Dian aye will hear unheeding 
 The laughter-loving Goddess pleading. 
 
 The bow, the chace, 
 
 The forest race, 
 
 The harp, the lyre, the dance ; 
 
 The greenwood gay, 
 
 The loud hurra, 
 
 Alone her soul entrance. 
 
 And 
 
EURIP. HIP. 
 
 All his Paphian mother fear ; 
 Empress ! all thy sway revere ! 
 
 And vainly too has Venus smiled 
 On Vesta, Saturn's eldest child ; 
 To win the modest maiden's love, 
 Phoebus and Neptune jointly strove: 
 But " No," still " No," fair Vesta said ; 
 And, touching Jove's immortal head, 
 She swore from wedlock still to fly, 
 A maiden live ; a maiden die. 
 
EURIP. ALC. 447. 
 
 N 2 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus, in the following Ode, lament the fate, and 
 applaud the generosity, of Alcestis, who had consented 
 to die, in order to procure immortality for her husband 
 Admetus, King of Pherse. 
 
EURIP. ALC. 147. 
 
 Farewell to thee ! mid Pluto's halls, 
 Where never garish sunbeam falls, 
 Still, if my prayers are answered, blest, 
 Daughter of Pelias, sweetly rest ! 
 And let the God of raven hair 
 Own thee the brightest spirit there;. 
 Let him, the aged pilot, learn, 
 Who, seated in his shallop's stern, 
 The pale ghosts, thronging in his bark, 
 Ferries o'er Acheron's waters dark, 
 Bride half so true his skiff before 
 Ne'er wafted to the sable shore. 
 Thy praise shall swell to mountain shell, 
 And dirges due thy virtues tell ; 
 Thy name inspire the minstrel choir, 
 The music of the seven-stringed lyre, 
 At Sparta, when the circling year 
 Brings round the gay Carneian cheer, 
 
182 
 
 EURIP. ALC. 
 
 Beneath the moon's unwearied light, 
 That gladdens through the live -long night ; 
 At Athens, where each radiant tower 
 Sparkles with Fortune's golden dower ; 
 So meet a theme for minstrel's dream 
 The story of thy death shall seem. 
 Oh ! might I break the fatal chain, 
 That links thee to that dim domain, 
 And woo thee back to light again ! 
 Did no Cocytus interpose, 
 Did Hell's tall portals e'er unclose, 
 How swiftly should my oar be plied \ 
 O'er that dark river's troublous tide ; > 
 For thou hast been the truest bride ) 
 
 That time hath ever known : 
 No other wife 
 Her husband's life 
 
 Hath ransomed with her own. 
 Light let them lay the turf above thee, 
 And if in death he cease to love thee, 
 If e'er he gaze on other charms, 
 Or press another in his arms ; 
 His children's hate and mine shall be 
 Meed of his infidelity. 
 No mother's love endured the grave, 
 Her child from yawning fate to save, 
 
 No father bore his doom ; 
 Though grey their locks, and death drew nigh, 
 For him they proffered not to die ; 
 
EURIP. ALC. 183 
 
 But thou, in life's enchanting spring, 
 When all thy charms were blossoming, 
 
 Hast sought, for him, the tomb. 
 Be mine a bride as fond, as true, 
 Then might I bid life's cares adieu ; 
 But scarce on mortal lot may shine 
 The blessing of a love like thine. 
 
EURIP. ALC. 584. 
 
ARGUMENT, 
 
 Admetus, soon after the death of his wife Alcestis, having 
 entertained Hercules, the Chorus, in the following Ode, 
 applaud his self-command, and relate his former hospitality 
 to Apollo. 
 
EUR I P. ALC. 584 
 
 Hall of Admetus ! 'neath whose shade 
 
 Ever the pilgrim's form is laid, 
 
 To him thy portals still are free, 
 
 Still proffer hospitality. 
 
 Thy courts to tread, the Pythian king, 
 
 Who deftly strikes the tuneful string, 
 
 In sylvan garb arrayed, 
 Forsook his home beyond the sky ; 
 A shepherd boy, he loved to hie, 
 Piping his pastoral melody, 
 
 Along the winding glade. 
 Charmed by the magic of his lay, 
 In peace beside their fleecy prey, 
 
 The spotted lynxes stood; 1 
 
 (,) Compare a fragment of Simouides : 
 
 rod /col aireipeaioi 
 ttujtcovt' ufjuides virep K€(paAas, ava 5' 
 Ix^ves opOol fcvaveov e| v5<xtos aWovro, 
 KaXa avv aoida. 
 
 About 
 
188 EURIP. ALC. 
 
 From Othrys' wood-encircled crown, 
 A grisly band, sped trooping down 
 
 Grim lions, smeared with blood. 
 The dappled fawn, that harp to hear, 
 Came tripping, where the groves of fir 
 
 Hang their green tresses high ; 
 With light elastic step she flew, 
 And bade the covert shades adieu, 
 
 To list that symphony. 
 Restored to heaven, the grateful guest 
 His master's flocks with increase blest, 
 Whose mansion towers in princely pride, 
 Bright Bcebe's limpid lake beside. 
 Far stretch his tillage and his plains ; 
 The limit to his fair domains 
 Lies westward, where the Lord of light 
 Stables his steeds in realms of night, 
 
 Molossia's sky beneath ; 
 His eastern bound, where Pelion braves 
 The fury of JEgean waves, 
 Nor friendly creek, nor harbour saves 
 
 The baffled crew from death. 
 And now, while yet the tear-drops flow, 
 Fresh gushing for his widowed woe, 
 
 About his head flocked many a bird, 
 The fish beneath the waters heard, 
 And leapt from out the dark blue sea, 
 To list the minstrel's melody. 
 
EURTP. ALC. 189 
 
 Bowed by the stroke of recent ill, 
 
 He bids the stranger welcome still ; 
 
 Still opes his hospitable door, 
 
 As freely as in days of yore. 
 
 For generous souls, whate'er befall, 
 
 Still list to duty's social call ; 
 
 And virtue's sons, in saddest mood, 
 
 Are yet considerate as good. 
 
 Oh ! well I trust rich meed shall be 
 
 From heaven to bless his piety. 
 
EUR I P. ALC. 983. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The following Ode is a dirge on Alcestis, addressed to 
 Admetus. 
 
EURIP. ALC. 983. 
 
 Oft my steps have roamed among 
 
 All the airy realms of song, 
 
 Learnt through wisdom's maze to wind, 
 
 Yet availeth not my mind 
 
 Remedy 'gainst Fate to find. 1 
 
 Not all the drugs that Orpheus sage 
 
 Recorded in his Thracian page, 
 
 From her decree can save ; 
 Not Phcebus, who the art divine 
 Of life-restoring medicine 
 
 To ^Isculapius gave. 
 
 (') Compare Simmias Rhod. 
 
 eyci) yap yevo/xav, dviK inpiv 'AvdyKct, 
 Trdvra Se ras 6t«e cppaScuai Kvypals 
 epirtTa, iravd' hs' eptrei 
 St' aiQpas 
 
 Xaovs T€. 
 
 For I was born when Fate decreed ; 
 Fate, to whose gloomy mandates cede 
 All beings that existence share, 
 From Chaos dark to cloudless Air. 
 
194 EURIP. ALC. 
 
 Stern Goddess ! at her altar's side 
 
 The votary kneels in vain, 
 And vainly clasps her statue's pride, 
 
 And heaps his victims slain. 2 
 Oh ! never may she bid me bow 
 More lowly to her yoke than now. 
 E'en Jove, the everlasting God, 
 Whate'er he sanctions by his nod, 
 Through her performs, and needs her skill 
 To execute his sovereign will : 3 
 Her might can bend Chalybian steel, 
 Her rugged spirit will not feel. 
 
 ( 2 ) A similar sentiment with regard to Death occurs in a frag- 
 ment of iEschylus : 
 
 fiopos Qeciv yap ®duaros ov dcipuu tpa., 
 ovt $lv ri Ovcdu, oi/V ciricnrevdwv \d&ois' 
 ov fiu>p.ds iariv, oiiBe Traiuvifercu. 
 fj.6vov 5e Ueidoi} dai^oucoy aizoararei. 
 
 For Death alone, unbending King, 
 No altars smoke, no paeans ring; 
 And Death alone will neither prize 
 Libation, gift, nor sacrifice; 
 And Death, of all the Gods, alone, 
 Heeds not Persuasion's dulcet tone. 
 
 ( 3 ) Compare Chaucer, (Palamon and Arcite, 1665.) 
 
 " The destinee, ministre general, 
 That executeth in the world over al 
 The purveiance that God hath sen beforne, 
 So strong it is, that though the world had sworne 
 The contrary of a thing by ya or nay, 
 Yet sometime it shall fallen on a day, 
 That falleth nat efte in a thousand yere." 
 
EURIP. ALC. 195 
 
 The fettering clasp 
 
 Of her iron grasp 4 
 
 Its links hath bound 
 
 Thy form around : 
 Be patient; — for thy tears are vain, 
 They may not wake the dead again ; 5 
 
 ( 4 ) Compare Milman, (Martyr of Antioch.) 
 
 " They bind me 
 With the hard fetters of their arms." 
 
 ( 5 ) This sentiment is prettily expressed, and commented on, in 
 the following little poem of Schiller's : 
 
 " Der Eichwald brauset, 
 Die wolken ziehn, 
 Das Magdlein sitzet 
 An Ufer's Griin, 
 
 Es bricht sich die Welle mit Macht, mit Macht, 
 Und sie seufzt hinaus in the finstre Nacht, 
 Das Auge vom Weinen getriibet. 
 
 u ' Das Herz ist gestorben, 
 1 Die Welt ist leer, 
 ' Und weiter gibt sie 
 ' Dem Wunsche nichts mehr. 
 1 Du Heilige, rufe dein kind zuriick, 
 1 Ich habe genossen das irdische Gliick, 
 1 Ich habe gelebt und geliebet.' 
 
 " ' Es rinnet der Thranen 
 ' Vergeblicher Lauf ; 
 ' Die Klage, sie wecket 
 ' Die Tod ten nicht auf ; 
 
 ' Doch nenne,.was trostet und heilet die Brust, 
 ' Nach der siissen Liebe verschwundener Lust, 
 ' Ich, die Himmlische, will's nicht versagen.' 
 
 " ' Lass rinnen der Thranen 
 ' Vergeblicher Lauf ! 
 ' Es wecke die Klage 
 ' Den Todten nicht auf, 
 ' Das siisseste Gliick fur die tramende Brust, 
 
 o 2 'Nach 
 
196 EUR1P. ALC. 
 
 E'en heroes, of immortal sire 
 And mortal mother born, expire. 6 
 
 ' Nach der schbnen Liebe verschwundener Lust, 
 ' Sind der Liebe Scbmerzen und Klagen.' " 
 
 The clouds are flitting, 
 
 The oak-woods roar, 
 And the maiden is sitting 
 
 On Ocean's shore ; 
 And the waves of the billowy sea 
 Are dashing mightily, mightily ; 
 On the murky night floats out her sigh, 
 And tears are in her troubled eye. 
 
 " My heart's life has perished, 
 
 " The world is a void, 
 " With nought to be cherished, 
 
 " Or wished, or enjoyed. 
 " Then, Holy Mother! hear, and call 
 
 " Thy child to her home above ; 
 " The cup of bliss, I have drained it all — 
 
 " I have lived ; and lived to love." 
 " The tears thou art weeping 
 
 " Stream, maiden, in vain ; 
 " Tears woo not the sleeping 
 
 rt To earth back again. 
 " But say, what can heal the broken-hearted, 
 " When the soft delight of love is parted ; 
 " Say, and, if such a balm there be, 
 " I will send that balm from above for thee." 
 
 " Let the tears I am weeping 
 
 " Stream on, though in vain ;• 
 " True, they woo not the sleeping 
 
 " To earth back again. 
 " But the sweetest balm for the broken-hearted, 
 
 " In their dreary waste of years, 
 " When the soft delights of love are parted, 
 
 " Is love's lament, and tears !" 
 
 (6) Mention is made by the classical authors of several mortal 
 deities ; see, particularly, a curious fragment of Hesiod : 
 
 ivyia 
 
EUR1P. ALC. 197 
 
 Oh ! she was dear 
 
 While she lingered here, 
 She is dear now she rests below ; 
 
 And thou mayst boast 
 
 That the bride thou hast lost 
 Was the noblest earth can show. 
 
 We will not look on her burial sod, 
 
 As the cell of sepulchral sleep, 
 It shall be as the shrine of a radiant God, 
 And the pilgrim shall visit that blest abode, 
 
 To worship, and not to weep. 
 And as he turns his steps aside, 
 
 Thus shall he breathe his vow, 
 " Here slept a self-devoted bride, 
 " Of old to save her lord she died ; 
 
 " She is a spirit now ; 
 
 evvia roi feoei yeueas Aanepvfra KOpwvt], 
 avSpwv rific&PTwW eXacpos 8e re rerpaKopavos' 
 Tpe?s 8' i\d(povs 6 ic6pa£ yripaffKercu' avrap 6 <poivi£ 
 ivvza rovs Kopanas' 8ck<x 8' ^/tcts tovs <po'u>iitus 
 vvfitpai iv7rXoKajxoi, Kovpai Alos alyioxoio. 
 
 Nine generations lives the crow, 
 
 As human generations flow ; 
 
 The stag, the years of four crows numbers, 
 
 Ere, spent with age, in death he slumbers ; 
 
 Three stags the raven oft survives ; 
 
 The Phoenix lasts nine ravens' lives : 
 
 But we, whom flowing tresses grace, 
 
 We Nymphs, the Thunderer's mortal race, 
 
 E'en than the aged Phoenix stronger, 
 
 Are blest with lives full ten times longer. 
 
198 EURIP. ALC. 
 
 " Hail, bright and blest one ! grant to me 
 " The smiles of glad prosperity!" 
 So shall he own her name divine, 
 So bend him at Alcestis' shrine. 
 
 
EURIP. EL EC. 480. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The following Ode is sung by a Chorus of Argive women, 
 after the death of Agamemnon. 
 
EUR I P. ELEC. 480. 
 
 Glorious fleet ! by countless oars 
 Wafted to the Trojan shores, 
 In whose wake across the main 
 Danced the Nereid's sprightly train, 
 While in time, with lute and lyre, 
 Moved the Dolphins' darting choir 
 Round the purple-beaked prow, 
 Fraught with precious freight wert thou. 
 Borne by thee to Simoi's banks, 
 Agamemnon saw his ranks, 
 Deeming Troy already won 
 By the might of Thetis' son. 
 From Euboea's stormy waters, 
 Trooped for him old Nereus' daughters ; 
 Arms from Vulcan's forge they brought, 
 On the golden anvil wrought. 
 Up the steep ascent they hied, 
 Ossa's wood and Pelion's side, 
 
202 EURIP. ELEC. 
 
 Where the prospect wide to spy, 
 Listless nymphs in summer lie ; 
 Where the ocean Nereid's child 
 Roamed with Chiron through the wild, 
 Fleet of foot, and framed for war, 
 Soon to gleam his country's star. 
 Once from wandering man I learned, 
 One from Ilion fresh returned, 
 When his weary shallop lay, 
 Moored in Nauplia's friendly bay, 
 All the wondrous forms revealed, 
 Son of Thetis, on thy shield, 
 Figures at whose lurid glow 
 Shook for dread the stoutest foe. 
 On the rim, above the deep, 
 Seemed with feathered feet to sweep 
 Perseus, from successful toils 
 Hasting with the Gorgon's spoils, 
 With the herald from above, 
 Sylvan son of Maia's love. 
 In the midst his circle bright 
 Kindled Helios, source of light, 
 By his winged coursers drawn : 
 And the stars that lead till dawn 
 Mystic dances through the air, 
 Pleiads, Hyads, all were there, 
 With their concentrated blaze, 
 Blinding Hector's dazzled gaze. 
 
EURIP. ELEC. 203 
 
 On the golden helm were seen, 
 With their prey their claws between, 
 Sphynxes, theme of many a dirge. 
 On the bossy buckler's verge 
 Seemed a lioness to speed, 
 Chasing thee, Pirene's steed. 
 On the spear, four chargers bounding, 
 Dust in clouds their flanks surrounding. 
 Yet the warrior, thus arrayed, 
 Atreus' princely son obeyed. 
 Atreus' son ! where is he now ? 
 Broken is thy bridal vow, 
 Wedded wife, — by thee he bled ! 
 Vengeance hovers o'er thy head : 
 Choked with gore shall be thy breath, 
 Swift and violent thy death ! 
 
EUR I P. ELEC. 699, 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus relate the following Story to Clytsemnestra, after 
 the murder of Agamemnon. 
 
EUR I P. EL EC. 699. 
 
 There is a tale my mother told ; ! 
 
 The peasant knows it still, 
 Who well has conned the legends old 
 
 Of Argos' haunted hill. 
 
 'Tis said that Pan, whose sylvan reed 
 Oft echoes down the glade, 
 
 A golden lamb of wondrous breed 
 To Atreus' courts conveyed. 
 
 (') The interpretation given by Barnes has been here followed, 
 though perhaps the construction of the original more fully war- 
 rants the following version : 
 
 'Tis stored among the legends old 
 
 Of Argos' haunted hill, 
 That Pan, who loves along the wold 
 
 His sylvan notes to trill, 
 Pan, patron of the wax-bound reed, 
 
 To Atreus gave a lamb, 
 Of golden fleece and wondrous breed, 
 
 Beside its gentle dam. 
 
EURIP. ELEC. 
 
 In piercing tone, from steps of stone, 
 The herald cried : " Come all, 
 
 " Nor fear to see the prodigy 
 
 " That decks your monarch's stall." 
 
 Then Atreus' kin came trooping in, 
 
 Where gold-wrought shrines were raised ; 
 
 And up and down Mycenae's town 
 The kindled altars blazed. 
 
 The pipe, the Muses' willing slave, 
 
 Afar its music flung, 
 Responses tuneful voices gave, 
 
 " The golden Lamb " they sung. 
 
 Yet false those shouts that rose to heaven 
 
 Of Atreus' happiness, 
 His faithless wife the lamb had given 
 
 Her paramour to bless. 
 
 Thyestes to the forum came, 
 
 And loudly 'gan to call, 
 " The lamb of golden fleece I claim, 
 
 " 'Twas placed within my hall." 
 
 Then, then the cars of shining stars 
 Were from their courses drawn, 
 
 The sun's fair light was hid in night, 
 And veiled the eye of dawn. 
 
EURIP. ELEC. 209 
 
 The clouds 'gan roll to the Northern Pole, 
 
 So bade the voice of Jove; 
 Swift to his rest in the burning West 
 
 The furious Day-God drove. 
 
 And Amnion's seat by the parching heat 
 
 A shrivelled desert grew, 
 No drop of rain on the thirsty plain, 
 
 No drop of genial dew. 
 
 I scarce give credence to the tale, 
 
 That yonder glorious Sun 
 Would let his golden beams grow pale, 
 
 For aught by mortals done. 
 
 Yet well such tales, what waits the breach 
 
 Of heaven's great laws, record ; 
 Thee, high-born Dame, they could not teach, 
 
 For thou hast slain thy Lord. 
 
EURIP. TROAD. 795. 
 
 p 2 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Chorus, consisting of Trojan women, lament the capture 
 of their city, first by Hercules and Telamon, and afterwards 
 by Agamemnon ; and expostulate with Jove and Aurora 
 for not having protected them, for the sake of Ganymede 
 and Tithonus. 
 
EURIP. TROAD. 795. 
 
 From Salarainian shore, 
 Where waves unwearied roar, 
 Where the bee banquets on the flowery down, 
 Whence rise those banks to view 
 Wliere first the olive grew, 
 Minerva's gift, her radiant city's crown, 
 Linked with Alcmena's archer-son, 
 Went forth to high emprize the princely Telamon. 
 
 He marshalled Graecia's flower 
 To storm the Trojan tower ; 
 Wroth for his plundered steeds, he sailed the main ; 
 His rowers found repose 
 Where Simoi's smoothly flows, 
 And bound their cables on the Mysian plain ; 
 Their leader grasped the shaft and bow, 
 That doomed thy heart's best blood, Laomedon, to 
 flow. 
 
214 EURIP. TROAD. 
 
 The forts that Phoebus raised 
 In lurid splendour blazed, 
 The breath of flame in crimsoned vapors gushed; 
 Twice, Troy, thy crashing wall 
 Hath tottered to its fall, 
 Twice with thy children's blood the spear hath 
 blushed ! 
 What boots it then, that, borne on high, 
 Bright Ganymede fulfils such honoured ministry? 
 
 His delicate steps above 
 Glide o'er the courts of Jove, 
 His hand in golden cups is nectar pouring, 
 While fire consumes on earth 
 The land that gave him birth, 
 While wail her hollow shores, her fate deploring, 
 And, sad as robb'd bird's plaint, the moan 
 Is made for matrons grey, for husbands, children 
 gone. 
 
 The bath, which saw him lave 
 In its translucent wave, 
 The courts where he has played are vanished now : 
 Yet still unruffled grace 
 Beams on his blooming face, 
 And calm as summer is his cloudless brow, 
 Though Grecian spear hath desolate made 
 His haunts of rosy youth, by Priam's sceptre swayed. 
 
EURIP. TROAD. 215 
 
 Love ! Love ! who, darting down 
 To this our Phrygian town, 
 Didst woo and win the favourites of heaven, 
 By thy auspicious ties, 
 Which bound us to the skies, 
 What hopes of shielding tenderness were given ! 
 Yet both their earthly kindred scorn, 
 Alike the Thunder's Lord, the early-waking Morn. 
 
 She, on her silver wings, 
 Gladness to mortals brings, 
 But marks unpitying this deserted shore; 
 Though erst her golden car, 
 Studded with many a star, 
 Hence to her bower her Dardan bridegroom bore ; 
 Yet Ilion sinks, the victor's prey, 
 Nor Heaven vouchsafes to aid, nor charms her griefs 
 away! 
 
EURIP. IPH. IN AUL. 1025. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Iphigenia, having been enticed to Aulis, where she was to 
 be sacrificed, under pretence of being given in marriage to 
 Achilles, on her arrival discovers the deception. The 
 Chorus, in the following Ode, contrast the splendour which 
 attended the bridal of Thetis, with the melancholy fate 
 reserved for Iphigenia. 
 
EUR1P. IPH. IN AUL. 1025. 
 
 Merrily rose the bridal strain, 
 With the pipe of reed, and the wild harp ringing, 
 With the Libyan flute, and the dancer's train, 
 And the bright-haired Muses singing. 
 
 On the turf elastic treading, 
 Up Pelion's steep with an airy bound 
 Their golden sandals they struck on the ground, 
 While the mighty Gods were feasting round, 
 As they sped to Peleus' wedding. 
 They left Pieria's fountain, 
 
 On the leaf-crowned hill they stood, 
 They breathed their softest, sweetest lays 
 In the bride's and bridegroom's praise. 
 Re-echoed the Centaur's mountain, 
 Re-echoed Pelion's wood. 
 
 The golden goblets crowned the Page, 
 
 The Thunderer's darling boy, 
 In childhood's rosy age 
 
 Snatched from the plains of Troy. 
 
220 EURIP. IPH. IN AUL, 
 
 Where on the silvery sand 
 
 The noon-tide sun was glancing, 
 
 The fifty Nereids, hand in hand, 
 Were in giddy circles dancing. 
 
 The Centaur's tramp rung up the hill, 
 
 To feast with the Gods they trooped in haste, 
 And, at the board by Bacchus graced, 
 
 The purpling bowl to fill. 
 
 Grassy wreath and larch's bough 
 Twined around each shaggy brow. 
 
 Daughter of Nereus, loud to thee 
 Chaunted the maids of Thessaly. 
 Their song was of a child unborn, 
 Whose light should beam like summer morn, 
 Whose praise by the Delian seer was sung, 
 And hymned by Chiron's tuneful tongue. 
 
 " Thetis, mark thy warrior-son, 
 
 " Girt with many a Myrmidon, 
 
 (i Armed with spear and flaming brand, 
 
 " Wasting Priam's ancient land. 
 
 " He shall ne'er to foeman quail ; 
 
 " He shall case his limbs in mail, 
 
 " Casque, and greaves, and breast-plate's fold, 
 
 " All by Vulcan wrought of gold, 
 
 " Moulded in the forge of heaven, 
 
 " By his goddess-mother given. 
 
EURIP. IPH. IN AUL. 221 
 
 " His shall be a hero's name, 
 
 " Godlike might, and deathless fame." 
 
 Thus the Gods propitious smiled 
 On Peleus and the ocean child ; 
 Lady ! not such nuptial wreath 
 
 Shall Argives bid thee wear, 
 But, with the flowers of death, 
 
 Entwine thy clustering hair. 
 
EURIP. IPH. IN TAUR. 1059. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The following Ode is sung by Grecian women who attended 
 Iphigenia, when Priestess of Diana, in the Tauric Cherso- 
 nese ; and is occasioned by the prospect of Iphigenia's 
 return to Greece without them. 
 
EURIP. IPH. IN TAUR. 1059. 
 
 Sweet Halcyon ! on the rocky verge 
 Of cliffs that hang above the surge, 
 Chaunting thy melancholy dirge 1 
 
 (') Compare Moschus, Id. III. 37. 
 
 Ov Toaov elvaXiauri ■nrap' docri jxvparo $e\<plv, 
 OvSe roaov ttqk ae/crey iul <TKOireAoi(Tiv ar}5ccv, 
 OuSe roaov Oprjvrjaev av' &pea /xuKpci xeAiScbi', 
 'AXkvovos 5' ov roaaov in aXyecnv mxe K^i>|, 
 Ovdl roaov y\avKO?s evi Kv/J.aai KrjpvKos qSev, 
 Ov roaov acaoiaiv ev &yKeai 7ra?8a rbv 'Aovs, 
 'lirrd/xevos irepi aw/xa, Kivvparo Mepvovos upvis, 
 "Oaaov airocpOi/xevoio KarwSvpavro Bioovos. 
 
 Oh ! ne'er before on Ocean shore 
 
 So loud did dolphin wail, 
 Nor in the shade of rocky glade 
 
 So plained the nightingale ; 
 Ne'er skimming down the leafy hollow, 
 So loudly mourned the twittering swallow : 
 Nor Ceyx by the azure sea 
 So wept his lost Alcyone. 
 
 Nor diver's cry so mournfully 
 
 E'er rung the wave beside, 
 Nor dirge was heard from Memnon's bird 
 
 So sad, when Memnon died ; 
 
 Q When 
 
226 EURIP. TPH. IN TAUR. 
 
 To the wild waves forlorn, 
 Well sympathetic hearts may guess 
 What mean those notes of tenderness, 
 
 Thine absent mate they mourn. 2 
 
 When round his body, where he fell, 
 She fluttered in the eastern dell, 
 As mourned they all on that sad day 
 When Bion sighed his soul away. 
 
 ( 2 ) See the Story of Ceyx and Alcyone in Ovid's Metamorphoses, 
 Lib. II. 725. 
 
 " Jamque propinquse 
 Admotum terrae, jam quod cognoscere posset, 
 Cernit : erat conjux. Me est, exclamat ; et una 
 Ora, comas, vestem lacerat : tendensque trementes 
 Ad Ceyca manus. Sic, 6 carissime conjux, 
 Sic ad me, miserande, redis 1 ait. Adjacet undis 
 Facta manu moles : quae primas aequoris iras 
 Frangit ; et incursus quae praedelassat aquarum. 
 Insilit hue : mirumque fuit potuisse, volabat ; 
 Percutiensque levem modo natis aera pennis, 
 Stringebat summas ales miserabilis undas. 
 Dumque volat, mcesto similem, plenumque querelae 
 Ora dedere sonum tenui crepitantia rostro, 
 Ut ver5 tetigit mutum et sine sanguine corpus ; 
 Dilectos artus amplexa recentibus alis, 
 Frigida nequicquam duro dedit oscula rostro. 
 Senserit hoc Ceyx, an vultum motibus undae 
 Tollere sit visus, populus dubitabat; at ille 
 Senserat. Et tandem, Superis miserantibus, ambo 
 Alite mutantur. Fatis obnoxius isdem 
 Tunc quoque mansit amor. Nee conjugiale solutum, 
 Fcedus in alitibus : coeunt, fiuntque parentes : 
 Perque dies placidos hiberno tempore septem 
 Incubat Halcyone pendentibus aequore nidis." 
 
 Tossed by the waves, the corpse drew nigh ; 
 The well-known form that met her eye 
 Confirmed her wild alarms ; 
 
 " 'Tis 
 
EURIP. IPH. IN TAUR. 227 
 
 Not mine, alas ! thy wafting wing, 
 Yet mine thy plaintive strain to sing, 
 With memory's fond regrets to cling 
 
 " Tis he," she cried ; — she smote her breast, 
 She tore her tresses and her vest, 
 She spread her trembling arms. 
 
 " Thus has my love his promise kept!" 
 She cried ; upon a dam she leapt, 
 
 That there the waters checked ; 
 'Twas built the stormy waves to tire, 
 And by sustaining all their ire, 
 
 The harbour to protect. 
 
 As frantic on this dam she springs, 
 Wondrous to tell, a pair of wings 
 
 From out her shoulders rise ; 
 On novel pinions borne along, 
 With darting movement, plaintive song, 
 
 Above the wave she flies. 
 
 And when the Lady tried to speak, 
 There issued from her slender beak 
 
 A melancholy strain ; 
 And, loth a last embrace to miss, 
 On Ceyx' lips to print a kiss 
 
 That beak essayed in vain. 
 
 Some thought that Ceyx raised his head, 
 To meet that kiss ;— while others said, 
 
 'Twas but the waves in motion ; 
 But Time the infidels refuted, 
 For Ceyx, by the Gods recruited, 
 
 Became a bird of ocean, 
 
 Matched with his consort to a feather ; 
 And these, so linked in love together, 
 
 Are still a wedded pair ; 
 The billows, where they hang their nest, 
 For seven long days of winter rest, 
 
 The Halcyon's home to spare. 
 Q 2 
 
228 EURIP. 1PH. IN TAUR. 
 
 To haunts of Graecia still, 
 Where Dian, huntress-queen, possesses 
 
 The heights of Cynthus' hill, 
 Where towers the palm with feathery tresses, 
 
 And aye the bay 
 
 Each living spray 
 With fadeless verdure dresses. 
 The olive springs within the brake, 
 
 Apollo's sacred tree, 
 The swan is warbling on the lake 
 
 His placid melody; 
 Courting the Muses, as he floats, 
 To listen to his tuneful notes. 
 
 My tears have streamed, a heavy shower, 
 
 Since hostile spear, in evil hour, 
 
 Laid desolate my native tower. 
 
 They shook the lance, the oar they plied, 
 
 We darted o'er the foaming tide, 
 
 A gold-bought slave, I bowed my pride 
 
 To stand Diana's shrine beside ; 
 
 Nor 1 alone : — of princely blood, 
 
 There too Iphigenia stood, 
 
 Priestess to her whose fatal dart 
 
 Oft quivers in the forest-hart. 
 
 More blest their doom, 
 I deem, o'er whom 
 Unvarying woes have shed their gloom, 
 
EURIP. IPII. IN TAUR. ~~9 
 
 Who, from the first, 
 
 In sorrow nurst, 
 Are practised to endure the worst ; 
 But woe to him, who, left to moan, 
 Reviews the hours of brightness gone. 
 
 The Argive shallop o'er the main 
 Wafts Agamemnon's child again ; 
 The wax-bound reeds Pan loves to fill 
 With music on his favourite hill, 
 To cheer the rowers on their way, 
 Shall trill an airy roundelay. 
 Apollo's seven-stringed lyre shall ring; 
 Apollo's self the descant sing ; 
 And far old Ocean's spray shall fling 
 
 The sailor's dashing oar ; 
 The tackle stretched, the tightened sail 
 Shall woo the impulse of the gale ; 
 And soon the home-bound crew shall hail 
 
 Athena's radiant shore. 
 Oh ! might I mount the sunny sky, 
 Where Phoebus' fiery coursers fly ! 
 Oh ! might the rapid pinions bear 
 My form athwart the glistening air, 
 Till, where my childhood's hours were past, 
 I closed my weary wing at last, 
 There joined as once the festal train, 
 There wove the merry dance again ! 
 
230 EURIP. IPH. IN TAUR. 
 
 How happy, by my mother's side, 
 When some dear friend became a bride, 
 To shine beyond the rest I tried, 
 
 In gay embroidery drest ; 
 Vain of my drapery's rich brocade, 
 I loved my flowing locks to braid, 
 Taught them my blushing cheek to shade, 
 
 And lived, how calmly blest ! 
 
EUR I P. ION. 8k>. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Ion, the son of Apollo, but yet ignorant of his origin, had 
 been brought up from infancy in the temple of Delpbi, 
 which it was his daily task to keep free from pollution. 
 The following Ode is his Morning Song. 
 
EUR IP. ION. 82. 
 
 Drawn by flaming steeds, the Sun 
 Now again the heavens hath won, 
 Now again the starry choir, ^ 
 
 Shrinking from his car of fire, > 
 To the holy night retire ; J 
 
 Now upon Parnassus' head, 
 Where no foot profane may tread, 
 Glow his chariot's burning wheels : 
 Earth his genial influence feels : 
 Phoebus' shrine in vapour dense 
 Wraps the kindled frankincense. 
 From the tripod's holy seat, 
 Hear the Delphian maid repeat, 
 Prompted by the unerring seer, 
 Strains that thousands press to hear. 
 
2o4 EUR1P. ION. 
 
 Delphians ! that with Phoebus dwell, 
 To Castalia's silvery well 
 Speed your limbs at dawn to lave 
 In the pure and dewy wave : 
 Hushed be each profaner word, 
 Let no random voice be heard ; 
 Only keep an answer meet 
 Pious worshippers to greet. 
 I the while my task will ply, 
 Task I loved from infancy : 
 With the bay unfading crowned, 
 Hung with sacred chaplets round, 
 Thus I deck the porch and door, 
 Sprinkle thus the holy floor ; 
 Thus with bow and arrows chase 
 From the shrine the feathered race. 
 Who my mother, who my sire, 
 Vainly might I now enquire ; 
 All to filial duty owed 
 Give I to this blest abode, 
 That its kindly shelter spread 
 O'er the houseless orphan's head. 
 Come, assist me, fairest spray 
 Of the freshly-budding bay, 
 Thou, that every speck and stain 
 Sweepest from Apollo's fane ; 
 In immortal gardens first 
 Was thine infant verdure nurst, 
 
EUKIP. ION. 2o5 
 
 Where the glistening bubbles mount 
 From the never-failing fount, 
 Whence the sacred myrtle fed, 
 Hangs with leafy locks its head ; 
 From the pavement day by day 
 When I brush the dust away, 
 Long as Helios waves his wing, 
 Thence a fragrant branch I bring. 
 Paean ! Paean ! blest, oh ! blest, 
 May Latona's offspring rest ! 
 Fairer toil I may not ask 
 Than my daily, honoured task ; 
 Not to mortal man I bend, 
 But on deathless Gods attend. 
 Prophet, father, still to thee, 
 I a willing slave will be ; 
 Earthly parent have I none, 
 But I am thy foster-son : 
 Paean ! Paean ! blest, oh ! blest, 
 May Latona's offspring rest ! 
 While this bright bay branch I hold, 
 While I pour from cups of gold 
 Spangled drops that brightly gleam 
 In Castalia's crystal stream ; 
 While I keep me free from soil, 
 Can I weary of my toil ? 
 No : — but if I ever range, 
 May I find a blest exchange. 
 
236 EURIP. ION. 
 
 See from airy slumbers waking, 
 Birds Parnassus' heights forsaking, 
 Hear my warning, draw not nigh, 
 From the precious temple fly, 
 Nor your steps presume to set 
 On the holy parapet. 
 Thou shalt know that I can kill, 
 Herald of the Thunderer's will, 
 Though thy crooked talons tear 
 Every bird that cleaves the air. 
 See another sailing on 
 Towards the altars ; — 'tis a swan ; 
 Ha ! and wilt thou not retreat, 
 With thy scarlet-gleaming feet ? 
 Though with Phoebus' lyre thy strain 
 Concert keep, 'tis all in vain ; 
 Hence thy journey, minstrel, take ; 
 Launch thee on the Delian lake, 
 Lest a shaft transfix thy throat, 
 Rife with many a liquid note. 
 Ah ! what stranger bird is yonder ? 
 Hence ! to distant regions wander : 
 Underneath the eaves, I ween, 
 Thou thy grass-built nest wouldst screen- 
 Dost thou scorn me ? thou shalt know 
 How unerring twangs my bow : 
 Hie thee to the Isthmian grove, 
 Or, within some sheltering cove, 
 
eur ip. ion. 237 
 
 Rear by Alpheus' stream thy brood. 
 Nor on Delphi's shrine intrude. 
 I will spare you if I may, 
 Ye, who oft to men convey 
 Tidings of the Gods above : 
 But Apollo claims my love ; 
 He from infancy hath fed me, 
 He to youth hath safely led me, 
 And to him 1 vow to give 
 Cheerful service while I live. 
 
EURIP. CYC. 41. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Silenus and his Satyrs, having been shipwrecked on the 
 coast of Sicily, became the slaves of the Cyclops Polypheme, 
 and were employed by him in keeping his sheep. The 
 following is one of their Pastoral Songs. The Cyclops of 
 Euripides, from which this Chorus is taken, is the only 
 extant specimen of the Satyric Drama, or Farce of the 
 Greeks. 
 
EUR I P. CYC. 41. 
 
 Vain, my sheep, your vaunted breed, 
 If you know not where to feed ; 
 Not mid those rocks are soft airs blowing, 
 Nor there the richest herbage growing ; 
 Not there your bleating lambkins call, 
 Nor there the gurgling waters fall. 
 
 In your trench, by yonder cave, 
 Slake your thirst, your fleeces lave ; 
 Or, if ye must wander still, 
 Seek at least the dewy hill. 
 Must a pebble bring you back, 
 Flung across your wilful track ? 
 Hie thee, horned one, back again 
 To the shepherd Cyclops' den ; 
 See, the porter stands before 
 His rustic master's rocky door. 
 Mothers, hear your sucklings bleating, 
 For their evening meal entreating ; 
 Penned the live-long day they lie, 
 Now give them food and lullaby. 
 
242 EURIP. CYC. 
 
 Will ye never, never learn 
 From the grassy mead to turn ; 
 Never rest, when day grows dim, 
 In ^Etna's grot each weary limb ? 
 
 But where for me 
 
 The dance, the glee 
 Of Bacchus and his maids divine, 
 
 The timbrel's clash, 
 
 The fountain's flash, 
 The enlivening cups of wine ? 
 
 Nyssa's hill is far away, 
 
 Here no nymphs at twilight play, 
 
 Yet still the Bacchanalian lay 
 
 I chaunt to beauty's Queen. 
 How oft, her witching smiles to gain, 
 
 I've sought each hallowed scene, 
 Where lovely played the Bacchant train, 
 Or swept with snowy feet the plain ! 
 
 Say, Bacchus, say where thou, 
 Sequestered, wanderest now, 
 
 Thy golden tresses floating on the gale ? 
 
 Reft of defence, if thy protection fail, 
 Clad in this shaggy coat, 
 Snatched from the grim he-goat, 
 Drudge of the one-eyed Cyclops, see 
 Forlorn thy favourite votary ! 
 
ARIST. AV. 1058. 
 
ARGUMENT 
 
 The following Ode is supposed to be sung by a Chorus 
 of birds. 
 
ARIST. AV. 1058. 
 
 If the race of men are wise, 
 Soon to us they'll sacrifice, 
 Soon before us suppliant fall, 
 For we glance and rule o'er all. 
 When I sail the sky, my gaze 
 Every nook beneath surveys ; 
 When to earth from heaven I shoot, 
 I am guardian of the fruit; 
 Foe of every glutton worm 
 Feasting on the tender germ, 
 Or on trees, with budlets swelling, 
 Finding both his food and dwelling. 
 All that mar the garden's sweets, 
 I pursue to their retreats ; 
 All that creep, and all that sting, 
 Shudder when they hear my wing ; 
 They, by tiny talons slain, 
 Ne'er shall slime the flowers again, 
 Storm may beat, or sun may shine, 
 Happy, happy life is mine. 
 
-i*' ARIST. A\. 
 
 From the biting winter's cold 
 Swathed not in the mantle's fold. 
 Scorched not by the piercing ray 
 Of the sultry, summer day, 
 Mid the flowery meads I wrap me, 
 Where the cradling leaflets lap me : 
 Thus the glowing heat I shun, 
 'When, enthusiast of the sun, 
 Taught by heaven his shrilly tune, 
 Wakes the insect bard of noon. 
 When the frost I cannot bide, 
 In the sheltering grot I hide, 
 There, through gloomy winter, gay, 
 Mid the mountain nymphs I play ; 
 With the balmy breath of spring, 
 With the myrtle's blossoming, 
 Straight to feast I speed my flight 
 On its buds of virgin white, 
 Or on sweets of perfumed flower-. 
 Culled amid the Graces' bower-. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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