The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

To them of Kronos and of Zeus begot,

The spear-armed heroes, and the seed

Whom Nereus' golden daughters bore,

He honoureth, and evermore

His honours honours yield

Unto the mother city, friendly field

To strangers. Ay, they prayed, the men of yore,

That she might ever breed

A goodly race, on ship-board famed;

And stretching heavenward serried hands, they named

Hellanian Zeus, whose altar flamed

Beside the glorious sons of Endeis there,

And Phokos' royal might,

Whom Psamatheia bright

Upon the sea-beach whilom bare.

1 count it shame

Their dreadful act to name,

The deed defying justice which they dared:

How they forsook the isle of goodly fame,

What fate constrained the heroes, when they fared

Forth from CEnone. Here I pause, mid-song,

Nor will the tale prolong.

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The World's Greatest Books

Not every truth its perfect face may show, And wisest counsels oft in silence go. Antistrophe: But if it be my will Good luck to praise, Or steel-clad war, or dextrous skill Of hand, let one be swift to trace A line for me, to mark my forward spring; Nimble my knees, and e'en the farthest place O'erseas is won by beat of eagle's wing. With like goodwill the Muses' lovely choir To the Aiakidai in Pelion sang; While in the midst Apollo's seven-toned lyre Beneath his golden plectrum rang, Leading the ever-changing strain. And first to Zeus the hymn he raised, Then Thetis, daughter of the main, And Peleus next in song he praised, Whom soft Hippolyte Was fain to tangle in her wile And taught her lord with words of guile How Peleus would betray His bed; but Peleus said her nay, For that he feared the wrath of the high Lord Who guards the stranger at the board. When this from his high seat the Heavenly King, The cloud-compeller, saw, Even Zeus, who gives the law To host and guest, he swore to bring A Nereid bright With golden distaff dight Up from the ocean, Peleus' bride to be. What his nod promised straightway Zeus fulfilled; For thereto he persuaded, as he willed, Poseidon, kin to him by marriage ties, Him that from Aigai hies Oft to the Dorian Isthmus, where the reed Flutes welcome, and lithe limbs the contest speed. 90

Epode: Man's fate, his twin, His every act ordains And goddess victory within Her soft embrace constrains Euthymenes, who at ^Egina won His meed in subtle hymns of praise; And thou, O Pytheas, son Of the same stock, hast run Thy kinsman close in honour's ways. Nemea yields him fame, Likewise the month his fatherland Calls by Apollo's Delphian name. The youthful hero band Who sought his prowess to withstand At home he overcame, and proved his skill No less at Nisos' pleasant-gladed hill. Glad am I

That all the citizens in prowess vie. Know thou, it was Menander's aid That won for thee requital sweet Of labour, and I count it meet That one who hath such athletes made, Thy trainer, should from Athens hail. But hearken, wouldst thou sing Themistios' fame, let not thy spring Of song be frozen; bid it flow Loud-sounding; hoist the sail Up to the high top-gallant, for the tale Of his twofold renown, The boxer's and pankratiast's crown At Epidauros, when with fair

Fresh wreaths to Aiakos' gates they brought him down, The Graces glorious with their yellow hair.

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The World's Greatest Books The Second Isthmian Ode

FOR XENOCRATES OF AGRIGENTUM, WINNER IN THE CHARIOT RACE

Strophe : O Thrasyboulos, they of old Who yoked the Muses' car of gold, Speeding the glorious lyre to greet, Lightly shot forth their arrowy song That moved with dulcet voice along In praise of boys, whose loveliness Of early bloom, as summer sweet, Woke fair-throned Aphrodite's dear distress In wooer's heart. Ah, then no hireling Muse Was honey-voiced Terpsichore, to sell Her tender songs with silvered face; But now she will not aught refuse Of heed to him of Argive race, Who, reft of goods and friends as well, Spake thus (and scarce from truth his utterance strayed): " By money, money man is made." Wise art thou. Therefore, 'tis no unknown thing The Isthmian victory I sing, Which to Xenocrates Poseidon gave By might of coursers brave, And sent to him, to bind his hair withal, A parsley wreath, the Dorian coronal.

Antistrophe: A goodly charioteer was he, Of Agrigentine folk the light, Precious in the far-darter's sight; For eke at Krisa gloriously Apollo favoured him, what time he won The crowns in Athens, bright of name, The Erechtheidais' gift; nor did he blame Nikomachus, whose chariot-saving hand, Well skilled to guide the steed, Bare full on all the reins at need.

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Pindar

Him, too, the Elean heralds who proclaimed

The seasonable truce of Kronos' son,

Acknowledged, and with dulcet breath they framed

Fair greeting to their whilom host, who fell

At golden Victory's knees within their land,

The holy grove, as mortals tell,

Of Zeus Olympic, whence eternal shine

The honours which Ainesidamos' line

Won there. For, truly to the triumph-song

No stranger is thy hall,

O Thrasyboulos; there sweet music's fall

And pleasant shouts the victor's fame prolong.