XII
LOVE’S DRINK
MELEAGER
The cup is glad for sweetness, and says that it touches the sweet- voiced mouth of love’s darling, Zenophile. Happy! would that now, bringing up her lips to my lips, she would drink at one draught the very soul in me.
XIII
LOVE THE RUNAWAY
MELEAGER
I make hue and cry after wild Love; for now, even now in the morning dusk, he flew away from his bed and was gone. This boy is full of sweet tears, ever talking, swift, fearless, sly-laughing, winged on the back, and carries a quiver. But whose son he is I may not say, for Heaven denies having borne this ruffler, and so Earth and so Sea. Everywhere and by all he is hated; but look you to it lest haply even now he is laying more springes for souls. Yet–there he is, see! about his lurking-place; I see thee well, my archer, ambushed in Zenophile’s eyes.
XIV
LOVE’S SYMPATHY
CALLIMACHUS
Our friend was wounded, and we knew it not; how bitter a sigh, mark you? he drew all up his breast. Lo, he was drinking the third time, and shedding their petals from the fellow’s garlands the roses all poured to the ground. He is well in the fire, surely; no, by the gods, I guess not at random; a thief myself, I know a thief’s footprints.
XV
THE MAD LOVER
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
A man wounded by a rabid dog’s venom sees, they say, the beast’s image in all water. Surely mad Love has fixed his bitter tooth in me, and made my soul the prey of his frenzies; for both the sea and the eddies of rivers and the wine-carrying cup show me thy image, beloved.
XVI
LOVE AT THE VINTAGE
AGATHIAS
We, as we trod the infinite fruit of Iacchus, mingled and wound in the rhythm of the revel, and now the fathomless flood flowed down, and like boats our cups of ivy-wood swam on the sweet surges; dipping wherewith, we drank just as it lay at our hand, nor missed the warm water-nymphs overmuch. But beautiful Rhodanthe leant over the winepress, and with the splendours of her beauty lit up the welling stream; and swiftly all our hearts were fluttered, nor was there one of us but was overcome by Bacchus and the Paphian. Alas for us! he ran plenteous at our feet, but for her, hope played with us, and no more.
XVII
LOVE’S GARLAND
MELEAGER
I will twine the white violet and I will twine the delicate narcissus with myrtle buds, and I will twine laughing lilies, and I will twine the sweet crocus, and I will twine therewithal the crimson hyacinth, and I will twine lovers’ roses, that on balsam-curled Heliodora’s temples my garland may shed its petals over the lovelocks of her hair.
XVIII
LOVER’S FRIGHT
MELEAGER
She is carried off! What savage could do so cruel a deed? Who so high as to raise battle against very Love? Light torches, quick! and yet–a footfall; Heliodora’s; go back into my breast, O my heart.
XIX
LOVE IN SPRING
MELEAGER
Now the white violet blooms, and blooms the moist narcissus, and bloom the mountain-wandering lilies; and now, dear to her lovers, spring flower among the flowers, Zenophile, the sweet rose of Persuasion, has burst into bloom. Meadows, why idly laugh in the brightness of your tresses? for my girl is better than garlands sweet to smell.
XX
SUMMER NIGHT
MELEAGER
Shrill-crying gnats, shameless suckers of the blood of men, two-winged monsters of the night, for a little, I beseech you, leave Zenophile to sleep a quiet sleep, and see, make your feast of flesh from my limbs. Yet to what end do I talk in vain? even relentless wild beasts take delight in nestling on her delicate skin. But once more now I proclaim it, O evil brood, cease your boldness or you shall know the force of jealous hands.
XXI
PARTING AT DAWN
MELEAGER
Farewell, Morning Star, herald of dawn, and quickly come again as the Evening Star, bringing secretly her whom thou takest away.
XXII
DEARER THAN DAY
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
“Fare thou well,” I would say to thee; and again I check my voice and rein it backward, and again I stay beside thee; for I shrink from the terrible separation from thee as from the bitter night of Acheron; for the light of thee is like the day. Yet that, I think, is voiceless, but thou bringest me also that murmuring talk of thine, sweeter than the Sirens’, whereon all my soul’s hopes are hung.
XXIII
THE MORNING STAR
MACEDONIUS
Morning Star, do not Love violence, neither learn, neighbour as thou art to Mars, to have a heart that pities not; but as once before, seeing Phaethon in Clymene’s chamber, thou heldest not on thy fleet- foot course from the east, even so on the skirts of night, the night that so hardly has lightened on my desire, come lingering as though among the Cimmerians.
XXIV
AT COCKCROWING
ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA
Grey dawn is over, Chrysilla, and ere now the morning cock clarisoning leads on the envious Lady of Morn. Be thou accursed, most envious of birds, who drivest me from my home to the endless chattering of the young men. Thou growest old, Tithonus; else why dost thou chase Dawn thy bedfellow out of her couch while yet morning is so young?
XXV
DAWN’S HASTE
MELEAGER
Grey dawn, why, O unloving, risest thou so swift round my bed, where but now I nestled close to dear Demo? Would God thou wouldst turn thy fleet course backward and be evening, thou shedder of the sweet light that is so bitter to me. For once before, for Zeus and his Alcmena, thou wentest contrary; thou art not unlessoned in running backward.
XXVI
DAWN’S DELAY
MELEAGER
Grey dawn, why, O unloving, rollest thou now so slow round the world, since another is shrouded and warm by Demo? but when I held her delicate form to my breast, swift thou wert upon us, shedding on me a light that seemed to rejoice in my grief.
XXVII
WAITING
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Cleophantis lingers long; and the third lamp now begins to give a broken glimmer as it silently wastes away. And would that the firebrand in my heart too were quenched with the lamp, and did not burn me long in wakeful desires. Ah how often she swore by the Cytherean that she would be here at evenfall; but she recks not of either men or gods.
XXVIII
WAITING IN VAIN
ASCLEPIADES
Nico the renowned consented to come to me at nightfall and swore by the holy Lady of Laws; and she is not come, and the watch is gone by; did she mean to forswear herself? Servants, put out the lamp.
XXIX
THE SCORNED LOVER
ASCLEPIADES
O Night, thee and none other I take to witness, how Nico’s Pythias flouts me, traitress as she is; asked, not unasked am I come; may she yet blame thee in the selfsame plight standing by my doors!
XXX
SLEEPLESS NIGHT
AGATHIAS
All night long I sob; and when grey dawn rises and grants me a little grace of rest, the swallows cry around and about me, and bring me back to tears, thrusting sweet slumber away: and my unclosing eyes keep vigil, and the thought of Rhodanthe returns again in my bosom. O envious chatterers, be still; it was not I who shore away Philomela’s tongue; but weep for Itylus on the mountains, and sit wailing by the hoopoe’s court, that we may sleep a little; and perchance a dream will come and clasp me round with Rhodanthe’s arms.
XXXI
THE LOVE LETTER
RUFINUS
Rufinus to Elpis, my most sweet: well and very well be with her, if she can be well away from me. No longer can I bear, no, by thine eyes, my solitary and unmated severance from thee, but evermore blotted with tears I go to Coressus or to the temple of the great Artemis; but tomorrow my home shall receive me, and I will fly to thy face and bid thee a thousand greetings.
XXXII
LOVE AND REASON
PHILODEMUS
My soul forewarns me to flee the desire of Heliodora, knowing well the tears and jealousies of old. She talks; but I have no strength to flee, for, shameless that she is, she forewarns, and while she forewarns, she loves.
XXXIII
ODI ET AMO
MELEAGER
Take this message, Dorcas; lo again a second and a third time, Dorcas, take her all my message; run; delay no longer; fly. Wait a little, Dorcas, prithee a little; Dorcas, whither so fast before learning all I would say? And add to what I have just said–but no, I go on like a fool; say nothing at all–only that–say everything; spare not to say everything. Yet why do I send thee out, Dorcas, when myself, see, I go forth with thee?
XXXIV
LOOKING AND LIKING
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Eyes, how long are you draining the nectar of the Loves, rash drinkers of the strong unmixed wine of beauty? let us run far away, as far as we have strength to go, and in calm I will pour sober offerings to Cypris the Placable. But if haply there likewise I be caught by the sting, be you wet with chill tears and doomed for ever to bear deserved pain; since from you, alas! it was that we fell into all this labour of fire.
XXXV
FORGET-ME-NOT
AGATHIAS
Dost thou then also, Philinna, carry longing in thee, dost thou thyself also sicken and waste away with tearless eyes? or is thy sleep most sweet to thee, while of our care thou makest neither count nor reckoning? Thou wilt find thy fate likewise, and thy haughty cheek I shall see wetted with fast-falling tears. For the Cyprian in all else is malign, but one virtue is in her lot, hatred of proud beauties.
XXXVI
AMANTIUM IRAE
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
At evening Galatea slammed-to the doors in my face, flinging at me a speech of scorn. “Scorn breaks love”; idly wanders this proverb; her scorn inflames my love-madness the more. For I swore I would stay a year away from her; out and alas! but with break of day I went to make supplication.
XXXVII
INCONSTANCY
MACEDONIUS
Constantia, nay verily! I heard the name and thought it beautiful, but thou art to me more bitter than death. And thou fliest him who loves thee, and him who loves thee not thou pursuest, that he may love thee and thou mayest fly him once again.
XXXVIII
TIME’S REVENGE
CALLIMACHUS
So mayest thou slumber, Conopion, as thou makest me sleep here in the chill doorway; so mayest thou slumber, most cruel, as thou lullest thy lover asleep; but not even in a dream hast thou known compassion. The neighbours pity me, but thou not even in a dream; but the silver hair will remind thee of all this by and by.
XXXIX
FLOWN LOVE
MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Golden-horned Moon, thou seest this, and you fiery-shining Stars whom Ocean takes into his breast, how perfume-breathing Ariste has gone and left me alone, and this is the sixth day I cannot find the witch. But we will seek her notwithstanding; surely I will send the silver sleuth-hounds of the Cyprian on her track.
XL
MOONLIGHT
PHILODEMUS
Lady of Night, twy-horned, lover of nightlong revels, shine, O Moon, shine, darting through the latticed windows; shed thy splendour on golden Callistion; thine immortality may look down unchidden on the deeds of lovers; thou dost bless both her and me, I know, O Moon; for thy soul too was fired by Endymion.
XLI
LOVE AND THE STARS
PLATO
On the stars thou gazest, my Star; would I were heaven, that I might look on thee with many eyes.
XLII
ROSE
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Would I were a pink rose, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest grant me grace of thy snowy breast.
XLIII
LILY
THEOPHANES
Would I were a white lily, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest satisfy me with the nearness of thy body.
XLIV
LOVE AND SLEEP
MELEAGER
Thou sleepest, Zenophile, dainty girl; would that I had come to thee now, a wingless sleep, upon thine eyelids, that not even he, even he who charms the eyes of Zeus, might come nigh thee, but myself had held thee, I thee alone.
XLV
SLAYER AND HEALER
MACEDONIUS
I have a wound of love, and from my wound flows ichor of tears, and the gash is never staunched; for I am at my wits’ end for misery, and no Machaon sprinkles soothing drugs on me in my need. I am Telephus, O maiden, but be thou my true Achilles; with thy beauty allay the longing as thou didst kindle it.
XLVI
LOVE THE GAMBLER
MELEAGER
Still in his mother’s lap, a child playing with dice in the morning, Love played my life away.
XLVII
DRIFTING
MELEAGER
Bitter wave of Love, and restless gusty Jealousies and wintry sea of revellings, whither am I borne? and the rudders of my spirit are quite cast loose; shall we sight delicate Scylla once again?
XLVIII
LOVE’S RELAPSES
MELEAGER
Soul that weepest sore, how is Love’s wound that was allayed in thee inflaming through thy heart again! nay, nay, for God’s sake, nay for God’s sake, O infatuate, stir not the fire that flickers low among the ashes. For soon, O oblivious of thy pains, so sure as Love catches thee in flight, again he will torture his found runaway.
XLIX
LOVE THE BALL-PLAYER
MELEAGER
Love who feeds on me is a ball-player, and throws to thee, Heliodora, the heart that throbs in me. Come then, take thou Love-longing for his playmate; but if thou cast me away from thee, I will not bear such wanton false play.
L
LOVE’S ARROWS
MELEAGER
Nay by Demo’s tresses, nay by Heliodora’s sandal, nay by Timarion’s scent-dripping doorway, nay by great-eyed Anticleia’s dainty smile, nay by Dorothea’s fresh-blossomed garlands, no longer, Love, does thy quiver hide its bitter winged arrows, for thy shafts are all fixed in me.
LI
LOVE’S EXCESS
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Arm thyself, Cypris, with thy bow, and go at thy leisure to some other mark; for I have not even room left for a wound.
LII
MOTH AND CANDLE
MELEAGER
If thou scorch so often the soul that flutters round thee, O Love, she will flee away from thee; she too, O cruel, has wings.
LIII
LOVE AT AUCTION
MELEAGER
Let him be sold, even while he is yet asleep on his mother’s bosom, let him be sold; why should I have the rearing of this impudent thing? For it is snub-nosed and winged, and scratches with its nail-tips, and weeping laughs often between; and furthermore it is unabashed, ever- talking, sharp-glancing, wild and not gentle even to its very own mother, every way a monster; so it shall be sold; if any outward-bound merchant will buy a boy, let him come hither. And yet he beseeches, see, all in tears. I sell thee no more; be comforted; stay here and live with Zenophile.
LIV
INTER MINORA SIDERA
MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Pour ten cups for Lysidice, and for beloved Euphrante, slave, give me one cup. Thou wilt say I love Lysidice more? No, by sweet Bacchus, whom I drink deep in this bowl; Euphrante for me, one against ten; for the one splendour of the moon also outshines the innumerable stars.
LV
ROSA TRIPLEX
MELEAGER
Pour for Heliodora as Persuasion, and as the Cyprian, and once more for her again as the sweet-speeched Grace; for she is enrolled as my one goddess, whose beloved name I will mix and drink in unmixed wine.
LVI
LOVE IN ABSENCE
MELEAGER
Pour, and again say, again, again, “Heliodora”; say it and mingle the sweet name with the unmixed wine; and wreath me with that garland of yesterday drenched with ointments, for remembrance of her. Lo, the lovers’ rose sheds tears to see her away, and not on my bosom.
LVII
LOVE’S PORTRAITURE
MELEAGER
Who of my friends has imaged me sweet-voiced Zenophile? who has brought me one Grace of the three? Surely the man did a gracious deed who gave this gift, and in his grace gave Grace herself to me.
LVIII
THE SEA’S WOOING
MELEAGER
Fond Asclepias with her sparkling eyes as of Calm woos all to make the voyage of love.
LIX
THE LIGHT OF TROY
DIOSCORIDES
Athenion sang of that fatal horse to me; all Troy was in fire, and I kindled along with it, not fearing the ten years’ toil of Greece; and in that single blaze Trojans and I perished together then.
LX
LOVE AND MUSIC
MELEAGER
Sweet is the tune, by Pan of Arcady, that thou playest on the harp, Zenophile, oversweet are the notes of the tune. Whither shall I fly from thee? on all hands the Loves encompass me, and let me not take breath for ever so little space; for either thy form shoots longing into me, or again thy music or thy graciousness, or–what shall I say? all of thee; I kindle in the fire.
LXI
HONEY AND STING
MELEAGER
Flower-fed bee, why touchest thou my Heliodora’s skin, leaving outright the flower-bells of spring? Meanest thou that even the unendurable sting of Love, ever bitter to the heart, has a sweetness too? Yes, I think, this thou sayest; ah, fond one, go back again; we knew thy news long ago.
LXII
LOVE’S MESSENGER
MELEAGER
Fly for me, O gnat, a swift messenger, and touch Zenophile, and whisper lightly into her ears: “one awaits thee waking; and thou sleepest, O oblivious of thy lovers.” Up, fly, yes fly, O musical one; but speak quietly, lest arousing her bedfellow too thou stir pangs of jealousy against me; and if thou bring my girl, I will adorn thee with a lion-skin, O gnat, and give thee a club to carry in thine hand.
LXIII
LOVE THE SLAYER
MELEAGER
I beseech thee, Love, charm asleep the wakeful longing in me for Heliodora, pitying my suppliant verse; for, by thy bow that never has learned to strike another, but always upon me pours its winged shafts, even though thou slay me I will leave letters uttering this voice, “Look, stranger, on Love’s murdered man.”
LXIV
FORSAKEN
MAECIUS
Why so woe-begone? and why, Philaenis, these reckless tearings of hair, and suffusion of sorrowful eyes? hast thou seen thy lover with another on his bosom? tell me; we know charms for grief. Thou weepest and sayest no: vainly dost thou essay to deny; the eyes are more trustworthy than the tongue.
LXV
THE SLEEPLESS LOVER
MELEAGER
Grasshopper, beguilement of my longings, luller asleep, grasshopper, muse of the cornfield, shrill-winged, natural mimic of the lyre, harp to me some tune of longing, striking thy vocal wings with thy dear feet, that so thou mayest rescue me from the all-wakeful trouble of my pains, grasshopper, as thou makest thy love-luring voice tremble on the string; and I will give thee gifts at dawn, ever-fresh groundsel and dewy drops sprayed from the mouths of the watering-can.
LXVI
REST AT NOON
MELEAGER
Voiceful cricket, drunken with drops of dew thou playest thy rustic music that murmurs in the solitude, and perched on the leaf-edges shrillest thy lyre-tune with serrated legs and swart skin. But my dear, utter a new song for the tree-nymphs’ delight, and make thy harp-notes echo to Pan’s, that escaping Love I may seek out sleep at noon here lying under the shady plane.
LXVII
THE BURDEN OF YOUTH
ASCLEPIADES
I am not two and twenty yet, and I am weary of living; O Loves, why misuse me so? why set me on fire; for when I am gone, what will you do? Doubtless, O Loves, as before you will play with your dice, unheeding.
LXVIII
BROKEN VOWS
MELEAGER
Holy night, and thou, O lamp, you and none other we took to witness of our vows; and we swore, he that he would love me, and I that I would never leave him, and you kept witness between us. And now he says that these vows are written in running water, O lamp, and thou seest him on the bosom of another.
LXIX
DOUBTFUL DAWN
MELEAGER
O night, O wakeful longing in me for Heliodora, and eyes that sting with tears in the creeping grey of dawn, do some remnants of affection yet remain mine, and is her memorial kiss warm upon my cold picture? has she tears for bedfellows, and does she clasp to her bosom and kiss a deluding dream of me? or has she some other new love, a new plaything? Never, O lamp, look thou on that, but be guardian of her whom I gave to thy keeping.
LXX
THE DEW OF TEARS
ASCLEPIADES
Stay there, my garlands, hanging by these doors, nor hastily scattering your petals, you whom I have wetted with tears (for lovers’ eyes are rainy); but when you see him as the door opens, drip my rain over his head, that so at least that golden hair may drink my tears.
LXXI
LOVE’S GRAVE
MELEAGER
When I am gone, Cleobulus–for what avails? cast among the fire of young loves, I lie a brand in the ashes–I pray thee make the burial- urn drunk with wine ere thou lay it under earth, and write thereon, “Love’s gift to Death.”
LXXII
LOVE’S MASTERDOM
MELEAGER
Terrible is Love, terrible; and what avails it if again I say and again, with many a moan, Terrible is Love? for surely the boy laughs at this, and is pleased with manifold reproaches; and if I say bitter things, they are meat and drink to him. And I wonder how thou, O Cyprian, who didst arise through the green waves, out of water hast borne a fire.
LXXIII
LOVE THE CONQUEROR
MELEAGER
I am down: tread with thy foot on my neck, cruel divinity; I know thee, by the gods, heavy as thou art to bear: I know too thy fiery arrows: but hurling thy brands at my soul thou wilt no longer kindle it, for it is all ashes.
LXXIV
LOVE’S PRISONER
MELEAGER
Did I not cry aloud to thee, O soul, “Yes, by the Cyprian, thou wilt be caught, poor lover, if thou flutterest so often near the lime- twigs”? did I not cry aloud? and the snare has taken thee. Why dost thou gasp vainly in the toils? Love himself has bound thy wings and set thee on the fire, and sprinkled thee to swooning with perfumes, and given thee in thy thirst hot tears to drink.
LXXV
FROST AND FIRE
MELEAGER
Ah suffering soul, now thou burnest in the fire, and now thou revivest, and fetchest breath again: why weepest thou? when thou didst feed pitiless Love in thy bosom, knewest thou not that he was being fed for thy woe? knewest thou not? Know now his repayment, a fair foster-hire! take it, fire and cold snow together. Thou wouldst have it so; bear the pain; thou sufferest the wages of thy work, scorched with his burning honey.
LXXVI
THE SCULPTOR OF SOULS
MELEAGER
Within my heart Love himself has moulded Heliodora with her lovely voice, the soul of my soul.
LXXVII
LOVE’S IMMORTALITY
STRATO
Who may know if a loved one passes the prime, while ever with him and never left alone? who may not satisfy to-day who satisfied yesterday? and if he did satisfy, what should befall him not to satisfy to-morrow?
CHAPTER II
PRAYERS AND DEDICATIONS
I
TO ZEUS OF SCHERIA
JULIUS POLYAENUS
Though the terror of those who pray, and the thanks of those who have prayed, ever fill thine ears with myriad voice, O Zeus, who abidest in the holy plain of Scheria, yet hearken to us also, and bow down with a promise that lies not, that my exile now may have an end, and I may live in my native land at rest from labour of long journeys.
II
TO THE GOD OF THE SEA
CRINAGORAS
Holy Spirit of the great Shaker of Earth, be thou gracious to others also who ply across the Aegean brine; since even to me, chased by the Thracian hurricane, thou didst open out the calm haven of my desire.
III
TO THE GODS OF HARBOUR AND HEADLAND ANTIPHILUS
Harbour-god, do thou, O blessed one, send with a gentle breeze the outward-bound sail of Archelaus down smooth water even to the sea; and thou who hast the point of the shore in ward, keep the convoy that is bound for the Pythian shrine; and thenceforward, if all we singers are in Phoebus’ care, I will sail cheerily on with a fair-flowing west wind.
IV
TO POSEIDON OF AEGAE
ALPHEUS
Thou who holdest sovereignty of swift-sailing ships, steed-loving god, and the great overhanging cliff of Euboea, give to thy worshippers a favourable voyage even to the City of Ares, who loosed moorings from Syria.
V
TO THE LORD OF SEA AND LAND MACEDONIUS
This ship to thee, O king of sea and sovereign of land, I Crantas dedicate, this ship wet no longer, a feather tossed by the wandering winds, whereon many a time I deemed in my terror that I drove to death; now renouncing all, fear and hope, sea and storms, I have planted my foot securely upon earth.
VI
TO THE GODS OF SEA AND WEATHER PHILODEMUS
O Melicerta son of Ino, and thou, sea-green Leucothea, mistress of Ocean, deity that shieldest from harm, and choirs of the Nereïds, and waves, and thou Poseidon, and Thracian Zephyrus, gentlest of the winds, carry me propitiously, sped through the broad wave, safe to the sweet shore of the Peiraeus.
VII
TO POSEIDON, BY A FISHERMAN MACEDONIUS
Old Amyntichus tied his plummeted fishing-net round his fish-spear, ceasing from his sea-toil, and spake towards Poseidon and the salt surge of the sea, letting a tear fall from his eyelids; Thou knowest, blessed one, I am weary; and in an evil old age clinging Poverty keeps her youth and wastes my limbs: give sustenance to a poor old man while he yet draws breath, but from the land as he desires, O ruler of both earth and sea.
VIII
TO PALAEMON AND INO
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
This shattered fragment of a sea-wandering scolopendra, lying on the sandy shore, twice four fathom long, all befouled with froth, much torn under the sea-washed rock, Hermonax chanced upon when he was hauling a draught of fishes out of the sea as he plied his fisher’s craft; and having found it, he hung it up to the boy Palaemon and Ino, giving the sea-marvel to the sea-deities.
IX
TO ARTEMIS OF THE FISHING-NETS APOLLONIDES
A red mullet and a hake from the embers to thee, Artemis of the Haven, I Menis, the caster of nets, offer, and a brimming cup of wine mixed strong, and a broken crust of dry bread, a poor man’s sacrifice; in recompence whereof give thou nets ever filled with prey; to thee, O blessed one, all meshes have been given.
X
TO PRIAPUS OF THE SHORE MAECIUS
Priapus of the seashore, the trawlers lay before thee these gifts by the grace of thine aid from the promontory, having imprisoned a tunny shoal in their nets of spun hemp in the green sea-entrances: a beechen cup and a rude stool of heath and a glass cup holding wine, that thou mayest rest thy foot weary and cramped with dancing while thou chasest away the dry thirst.
XI
TO APOLLO OF LEUCAS
PHILIPPUS
Phoebus who holdest the sheer steep of Leucas, far seen of mariners and washed by the Ionian sea, receive of sailors this mess of hand- kneaded barley bread and a libation mingled in a little cup, and the gleam of a brief-shining lamp that drinks with half-saturate mouth from a sparing oil-flask; in recompence whereof be gracious, and send on their sails a favourable wind to run with them to the harbours of Actium.
XII
TO ARTEMIS OF THE WAYS
ANTIPHILUS
Thou of the Ways, to thee Antiphilus dedicates this hat from his own head, a voucher of his wayfaring; for thou wast gracious to his prayers, wast favouring to his paths; and his thank-offering is small indeed but sacred. Let not any greedy traveller’s hand snatch our gift; sacrilege is not safe even in little things.
XIII
TO THE TWIN BRETHREN
CALLIMACHUS
He who set me here, Euaenetus, says (for of myself I know not) that I am dedicated in recompence of his single-handed victory, I the cock of brass, to the Twin Brethren; I believe the son of Phaedrus the Philoxenid.
XIV
TO THE DELPHIAN APOLLO
PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Eunomus the Locrian hangs up this brazen grasshopper to the Lycorean god, a memorial of the contest for the crown. The strife was of the Lyre, and Parthis stood up against me: but when the Locrian shell sounded under the plectrum, a lyre-string rang and snapped jarringly; but ere ever the tune halted in its fair harmonies, a delicate- trilling grasshopper seated itself on the lyre and took up the note of the lost string, and turned the rustic sound that till then was vocal in the groves to the strain of our touch upon the lyre; and therefore, blessed son of Leto, he does honour to thy grasshopper, seating the singer in brass upon his harp.
XV
TO ARTEMIS THE HEALER
PHILIPPUS
Huntress and archer, maiden daughter of Zeus and Leto, Artemis to whom are given the recesses of the mountains, this very day send away beyond the North Wind this hateful sickness from the best of kings; for so above thine altars will Philippus offer vapour of frankincense, doing goodly sacrifice of a hill-pasturing boar.
XVI
TO ASCLEPIUS
THEOCRITUS
Even to Miletus came the son of the Healer to succour the physician of diseases Nicias, who ever day by day draws near him with offerings, and had this image carved of fragrant cedar, promising high recompence to Eetion for his cunning of hand; and he put all his art into the work.
XVII
TO THE NYMPHS OF ANIGRUS MOERO
Nymphs of Anigrus, maidens of the river, who evermore tread with rosy feet these divine depths, hail and save Cleonymus who set these fair images to you, goddesses, beneath the pines.
XVIII
TO PAN PAEAN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
This for thee, O pipe-player, minstrel, gracious god, holy lord of the Naiads who pour their urns, Hyginus made as a gift, whom thou, O king, didst draw nigh and make whole of his hard sickness; for among all my children thou didst stand by me visibly, not in a dream of night, but about the mid-circle of the day.
XIX
TO HERACLES OF OETA
DIONYSIUS
Heracles who goest on stony Trachis and on Oeta and the deep brow of tree-clad Pholoe, to thee Dionysius offers this green staff of wild olive, cut off by him with his billhook.
XX
TO APOLLO AND THE MUSES THEOCRITUS
These dewy roses and yonder close-curled wild thyme are laid before the maidens of Helicon, and the dark-leaved laurels before thee, Pythian Healer, since the Delphic rock made this thine ornament; and this white-horned he-goat shall stain your altar, who nibbles the tip of the terebinth shoot.
XXI
TO APHRODITE OF THE GOLDEN HOUSE MOERO
Thou liest in the golden portico of Aphrodite, O grape-cluster filled full of Dionysus’ juice, nor ever more shall thy mother twine round thee her lovely tendril or above thine head put forth her honeyed leaf.
XXII
TO APHRODITE, BY CALLISTION POSIDIPPUS
Thou who inhabitest Cyprus and Cythera and Miletus and the fair plain of horse-trampled Syria, come graciously to Callistion, who never thrust her lover away from her house’s doors.
XXIII
TO APHRODITE, BY LAÏS
PLATO
I Laïs who laughed exultant over Greece, I who held that swarm of young lovers in my porches, give my mirror to the Paphian; since such as I am I will not see myself, and such as I was I cannot.
XXIV
TO APHRODITE, WITH A TALISMAN AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Nico’s wryneck, that knows how to draw a man even from overseas, and girls out of their wedding-chambers, chased with gold, carven out of translucent amethyst, lies before thee, Cyprian, for thine own possession, tied across the middle with a soft lock of purple lamb’s wool, the gift of the sorceress of Larissa.
XXV
TO APHRODITE EUPLOIA
GAETULICUS
Guardian of the seabeach, to thee I send these cakes, and the gifts of a scanty sacrifice; for to-morrow I shall cross the broad wave of the Ionian sea, hastening to our Eidothea’s arms. But shine thou favourably on my love as on my mast, O Cyprian, mistress of the bride- chamber and the beach.
XXVI
TO THE GOD OF CANOPUS
CALLIMACHUS
To the god of Canopus Callistion, wife of Critias, dedicated me, a lamp enriched with twenty wicks, when her prayer for her child Apellis was heard; and regarding my splendours thou wilt say, How art thou fallen, O Evening Star!
XXVII
TO HERACLES, WITH A SHIELD HEGESIPPUS
Receive me, O Heracles, the consecrated shield of Archestratus, that leaning against thy polished portico, I may grow old in hearing of dances and hymns; let the War-God’s hateful strife be satisfied.
XXVIII
TO THE MILESIAN ARTEMIS NICIAS
So I was destined, I also, once to abandon the hateful strife of Ares and hear the maiden choirs around Artemis’ temple, where Epixenus placed me when white old age began to waste his limbs.
XXIX
TO ATHENE ERGANE
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
The shuttle that sang at morning with the earliest swallows’ cry, kingfisher of Pallas in the loom, and the heavy-headed twirling spindle, light-running spinner of the twisted yarn, and the bobbins, and this basket, friend to the distaff, keeper of the spun warp-thread and the reel, Telesilla, the industrious daughter of good Diocles, dedicates to the Maiden, mistress of wool-dressers.
XXX
TO THE ORCHARD GOD
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
This fresh-cloven pomegranate and fresh-downed quince, and the wrinkled navel-like fig, and the purple grape-bunch spirting wine, thick-clustered, and the nut fresh-stripped of its green husk, to this rustic staked Priapus the keeper of the fruit dedicates, an offering from his orchard trees.
XXXI
TO DEMETER AND THE SEASONS ZONAS
To Demeter of the winnowing-fan and the Seasons whose feet are in the furrows Heronax lays here from the poverty of a small tilth their share of ears from the threshing-floor, and these mixed seeds of pulse on a slabbed table, the least of a little; for no great inheritance is this he has gotten him, here on the barren hill.
XXXII
TO THE CORN GODDESS
PHILIPPUS
Those handfuls of corn from the furrows of a tiny field, Demeter lover of wheat, Sosicles the tiller dedicates to thee, having reaped now an abundant harvest; but again likewise may he carry back his sickle blunted from shearing of the straw.
XXXIII
TO THE GODS OF THE FARM AUTHOR UNKNOWN
To Pan of the goats and fruitful Dionysus and Demeter Lady of Earth I dedicate a common offering, and beseech of them fair fleeces and fair wine and fair fruit of the corn-ears in my reaping.
XXXIV
TO THE WEST WIND
BACCHYLIDES
Eudemus dedicates this shrine in the fields to Zephyrus, most bountiful of the winds, who came to aid him at his prayer, that he might right quickly winnow the grain from the ripe ears.
XXXV
TO PAN OF THE FOUNTAIN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
We supplicate Pan, the goer on the cliffs, twy-horned leader of the Nymphs, who abides in this house of rock, to be gracious to us, whosoever come to this spring of ever-flowing drink to rid us of our thirst.
XXXVI
TO PAN AND THE NYMPHS
ANYTE
To Pan the bristly-haired, and the Nymphs of the farm-yard, Theodotus the shepherd laid this gift under the crag, because they stayed him when very weary under the parching summer, stretching out to him honey-sweet water in their hands.
XXXVII
TO THE SHEPHERD-GOD
THEOCRITUS
White-skinned Daphnis, the player of pastoral hymns on his fair pipe, offers these to Pan, the pierced reeds, the stick for throwing at hares, a sharp javelin and a fawn-skin, and the scrip wherein once he carried apples.
XXXVIII
TO PAN, BY A HUNTER, A FOWLER, AND A FISHER ARCHIAS
To thee, Pan of the cliff, three brethren dedicate these various gifts of their threefold ensnaring; Damis toils for wild beasts, and Pigres springes for birds, and Cleitor nets that swim in the sea; whereof do thou yet again make the one fortunate in the air, and the one in the sea and the one among the oakwoods.
XXXIX
TO ARTEMIS OF THE OAKWOOD MNASALCAS
This to thee, Artemis the bright, this statue Cleonymus set up; do thou overshadow this oakwood rich in game, where thou goest afoot, our lady, over the mountain tossing with foliage as thou hastest with thy terrible and eager hounds.
XL
TO THE GODS OF THE CHASE CRINAGORAS
Fountained caverns of the Nymphs that drip so much water down this jagged headland, and echoing hut of pine-coronalled Pan, wherein he dwells under the feet of the rock of Bassae, and stumps of aged juniper sacred among hunters, and stone-heaped seat of Hermes, be gracious and receive the spoils of the swift stag-chase from Sosander prosperous in hunting.
XLI
TO ARCADIAN ARTEMIS
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
This deer that fed about Ladon and the Erymanthian water and the ridges of Pholoe haunted by wild beasts, Lycormas son of Thearidas of Lasion got, striking her with the diamond-shaped butt of his spear, and, drawing off the skin and the double-pointed antlers on her forehead, laid them before the Maiden of the country.
XLII
TO APOLLO, WITH A HUNTER’S BOW PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Androclus, O Apollo, gives this bow to thee, wherewith in the chase striking many a beast he had luck in his aim: since never did the arrow leap wandering from the curved horn or speed vainly from his hand; for as often as the inevitable bowstring rang, so often he brought down his prey in air or thicket; wherefore to thee, O Phoebus, he brings this Lyctian weapon as an offering, having wound it round with rings of gold.
XLIII
TO PAN OF THE SHEPHERDS AUTHOR UNKNOWN
O Pan, utter thy holy voice to the feeding flocks, running thy curved lip over the golden reeds, that so they may often bring gifts of white milk in heavy udders to Clymenus’ home, and for thee the lord of the she-goats, standing fairly by thy altars, may spirt the red blood from his shaggy breast.
XLIV
TO THE GOD OF ARCADY
AGATHIAS
These unsown domains, O Pan of the hill, Stratonicus the ploughman dedicated to thee in return of thy good deeds, saying, Feed in joy thine own flocks and look on thine own land, never more to be shorn with brass; thou wilt find the resting-place a gracious one; for even here charmed Echo will fulfil her marriage with thee.
CHAPTER III
EPITAPHS
I
OF THE ATHENIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA SIMONIDES
If to die nobly is the chief part of excellence, to us out of all men Fortune gave this lot; for hastening to set a crown of freedom on Greece we lie possessed of praise that grows not old.
II
ON THE LACEDAEMONIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA SIMONIDES
These men having set a crown of imperishable glory on their own land were folded in the dark cloud of death; yet being dead they have not died, since from on high their excellence raises them gloriously out of the house of Hades.
III
ON THE SPARTANS AT THERMOPYLAE PARMENIO
Him, who over changed paths of earth and sea sailed on the mainland and went afoot upon the deep, Spartan valour held back on three hundred spears; be ashamed, O mountains and seas.
IV
ON THE SAME
SIMONIDES
O passer by, tell the Lacedaemonians that we lie here obeying their orders.
V
ON THE DEAD IN AN UNKNOWN BATTLE MNASALCAS
These men, in saving their native land that lay with tearful fetters on her neck, clad themselves in the dust of darkness; and they win great praise of excellence; but looking on them let a citizen dare to die for his country.
VI
ON THE DEAD IN A BATTLE IN BOEOTIA AUTHOR UNKNOWN
O Time, all-surveying deity of the manifold things wrought among mortals, carry to all men the message of our fate, that striving to save the holy soil of Greece we die on the renowned Boeotian plains.
VII
ON A SLAIN WARRIOR
ANACREON
Valiant in war was Timocritus, whose monument this is; but Ares spares the bad, not the good.
VIII
ON THE SLAIN IN A BATTLE IN THESSALY AESCHYLUS
These men also, the steadfast among spears, dark Fate destroyed as they defended their native land rich in sheep; but they being dead their glory is alive, who woefully clad their limbs in the dust of Ossa.
IX
ON THE ATHENIAN DEAD AT THE BATTLE OF CHALCIS SIMONIDES
We fell under the fold of Dirphys, and a memorial is reared over us by our country near the Euripus, not unjustly; for we lost lovely youth facing the rough cloud of war.
X
ON THE ERETRIAN EXILES IN PERSIA PLATO
We who of old left the booming surge of the Aegean lie here in the mid-plain of Ecbatana: fare thou well, renowned Eretria once our country, farewell Athens nigh to Euboea, farewell dear sea.
XI
ON THE SAME
PLATO
We are Eretrians of Euboea by blood, but we lie near Susa, alas! how far from our own land.
XII
ON AESCHYLUS
AESCHYLUS
Aeschylus son of Euphorion the Athenian this monument hides, who died in wheat-bearing Gela; but of his approved valour the Marathonian grove may tell, and the deep-haired Mede who knew it.
XIII
ON AN EMPTY TOMB IN TRACHIS EUPHORION
Not rocky Trachis covers over thy white bones, nor this stone with her dark-blue lettering; but them the Icarian wave dashes about the shingle of Doliche and steep Dracanon; and I, this empty earth, for old friendship with Polymedes, am heaped among the thirsty herbage of Dryopis.
XIV
ON THE GRAVE OF AN ATHENIAN AT MEROË AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Straight is the descent to Hades, whether thou wert to go from Athens or takest thy journey from Meroë; let it not vex thee to have died so far away from home; from all lands the wind that blows to Hades is but one.
XV
ON THE GRAVE OF AN ATHENIAN WOMAN AT CYZICUS ERYCIUS
I am an Athenian woman; for that was my city; but from Athens the wasting war-god of the Italians plundered me long ago and made a Roman citizen; and now that I am dead, seagirt Cyzicus wraps my bones. Fare thou well, O land that nurturedst me, and thou that thereafter didst hold me, and thou that at last hast taken me to thy breast.
XVI
ON A SHIPWRECKED SAILOR PLATO
I am the tomb of one shipwrecked; and that opposite me, of a husbandman; for a common Hades lies beneath sea and earth.
XVII
ON THE SAME
PLATO
Well be with you, O mariners, both at sea and on land; but know that you pass by the grave of a shipwrecked man.
XVIII
ON THE SAME
THEODORIDES
I am the tomb of one shipwrecked; but sail thou; for when we were perishing, the other ships sailed on over the sea.
XIX
ON THE SAME
LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
May the seafarer have a prosperous voyage; but if, like me, the gale drive him into the harbour of Hades, let him blame not the inhospitable sea-gulf, but his own foolhardiness that loosed moorings from our tomb.
XX
ON THE SAME
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Mariner, ask not whose tomb I am here, but be thine own fortune a kinder sea.
XXI
ON THE SAME
CALLIMACHUS
What stranger, O shipwrecked man? Leontichus found me here a corpse on the shore, and heaped this tomb over me, with tears for his own calamitous life: for neither is he at peace, but flits like a gull over the sea.
XXII
ON THE EMPTY TOMB OF ONE LOST AT SEA GLAUCUS
Not dust nor the light weight of a stone, but all this sea that thou beholdest is the tomb of Erasippus; for he perished with his ship, and in some unknown place his bones moulder, and the sea-gulls alone know them to tell.
XXIII
ON THE SAME
SIMONIDES
Cloudcapt Geraneia, cruel steep, would thou hadst looked on far Ister and long Scythian Tanaïs, and not lain nigh the surge of the Scironian sea by the ravines of the snowy Meluriad rock: but now he is a chill corpse in ocean, and the empty tomb here cries aloud of his heavy voyage.
XXIV
ON THE SAME
DAMAGETUS
Thymodes also, weeping over unlooked-for woes, reared this empty tomb to Lycus his son; for not even in a strange land did he get a grave, but some Thynian beach or Pontic island holds him, where, forlorn of all funeral rites, his shining bones lie naked on an inhospitable shore.
XXV
ON A SAILOR DROWNED IN HARBOUR ANTIPATER OF SIDON
Everywhere the sea is the sea; why idly blame we the Cyclades or the narrow wave of Helle and the Needles? in vain have they their fame; or why when I had escaped them did the harbour of Scarphe cover me? Pray whoso will for a fair passage home; that the sea’s way is the sea, Aristagoras knows who is buried here.
XXVI
ON ARISTON OF CYRENE, LOST AT SEA THEAETETUS
O sailing mariners, Ariston of Cyrene prays you all for the sake of Zeus the Protector, to tell his father Meno that he lies by the Icarian rocks, having given up the ghost in the Aegean sea.
XXVII
ON BITON OF AMPHIPOLIS, LOST AT SEA NICAENETUS
I am the grave of Biton, O wayfarer; and if leaving Torone thou goest even to Amphipolis, tell Nicagoras that Strymonias at the setting of the Kids lost him his only son.
XXVIII
ON POLYANTHUS OF TORONE, LOST AT SEA PHAEDIMUS
I bewail Polyanthus, O thou who passest by, whom Aristagore his wife laid newly-wedded in the grave, having received dust and bones (but him the ill-blown Aegean wave cast away off Sciathus), when at early dawn the fishermen drew his luckless corpse, O stranger, into the harbour of Torone.
XXIX
ON A WAYSIDE TOMB
NICIAS
Sit beneath the poplars here, traveller, when thou art weary, and drawing nigh drink of our spring; and even far away remember the fountain that Simus sets by the side of Gillus his dead child.
XXX
ON THE CHILDREN OF NICANDER AND LYSIDICE AUTHOR UNKNOWN
This is the single tomb of Nicander’s children; the light of a single morning ended the sacred offspring of Lysidice.
XXXI
ON A BABY
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Me a baby that was just tasting life heaven snatched away, I know not whether for good or for evil; insatiable Death, why hast thou snatched me cruelly in infancy? why hurriest thou? Are we not all thine in the end?
XXXII
ON A CHILD OF FIVE
LUCIAN
Me Callimachus, a five-years-old child whose spirit knew not grief, pitiless Death snatched away; but weep thou not for me; for little was my share in life, and little in life’s ills.
XXXIII
ON A CHILD OF SEVEN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Hermes messenger of Persephone, whom usherest thou thus to the laughterless abyss of Death? what hard fate snatched Ariston from the fresh air at seven years old? and the child stands between his parents. Pluto delighting in tears, are not all mortal spirits allotted to thee? why gatherest thou the unripe grapes of youth?
XXXIV
ON A BOY OF TWELVE
CALLIMACHUS
Philip the father laid here the twelve-years-old child, his high hope, Nicoteles.
XXXV
ON CLEOETES
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Looking on the monument of a dead boy, Cleoetes son of Menesaechmus, pity him who was beautiful and died.
XXXVI
ON A BEAUTIFUL BOY
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Not death is bitter, since that is the fate of all, but to die ere the time and before our parents: I having seen not marriage nor wedding- chant nor bridal bed, lie here the love of many, and to be the love of more.
XXXVII
ON A BOY OF NINETEEN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Bidding hail to me, Diogenes beneath the earth, go about thy business and obtain thy desire; for at nineteen years old I was laid low by cruel sickness and leave the sweet sun.
XXXVIII
ON A SON, BY HIS MOTHER DIOTIMUS
What profits it to labour in childbirth? what to bear children? let not her bear who must see her child’s death: for to stripling Bianor his mother reared the tomb; but it was fitting that the mother should obtain this service of the son.
XXXIX
ON A GIRL
CALLIMACHUS
The daughters of the Samians often require Crethis the teller of tales, who knew pretty games, sweetest of workfellows, ever talking; but she sleeps here the sleep to which they all must come.
XL
ON A BETROTHED GIRL
ERINNA
I am of Baucis the bride; and passing by my oft-wept pillar thou mayest say this to Death that dwells under ground, “Thou art envious, O Death”; and the coloured monument tells to him who sees it the most bitter fortune of Bauco, how her father-in-law burned the girl on the funeral pyre with those torches by whose light the marriage train was to be led home; and thou, O Hymenaeus, didst change the tuneable bridal song into a voice of wailing dirges.
XLI
ON THE SAME
ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA
Ausonian earth holds me a woman of Libya, and I lie a maiden here by the sea-sand near Rome; and Pompeia, who nurtured me like a daughter, wept over me and laid me in a free tomb, while hastening on that other torch-fire for me; but this one came first, and contrary to our prayers Persephone lit the lamp.
XLII
ON A SINGING-GIRL
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Blue-eyed Musa, the sweet-voiced nightingale, suddenly this little grave holds voiceless, and she lies like a stone who was so accomplished and so famous; fair Musa, be this dust light over thee.
XLIII
ON CLAUDIA HOMONOEA
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
I Homonoea, who was far clearer-voiced than the Sirens, I who was more golden than the Cyprian herself at revellings and feasts, I the chattering bright swallow lie here, leaving tears to Atimetus, to whom I was dear from girlhood; but unforeseen fate scattered all that great affection.
XLIV
ON PAULA OF TARENTUM
DIODORUS OF SARDIS
Bear witness this my stone house of night that has hidden me, and the wail-circled water of Cocytus, my husband did not, as men say, kill me, looking eagerly to marriage with another; why should Rufinius have an ill name idly? but my predestined Fates lead me away; not surely is Paula of Tarentum the only one who has died before her day.
XLV
ON A MOTHER, DEAD IN CHILDBIRTH DIODORUS OF SARDIS
These woeful letters of Diodorus’ wisdom tell that I was engraven for one early dead in child-birth, since she perished in bearing a boy; and I weep to hold Athenaïs the comely daughter of Melo, who left grief to the women of Lesbos and her father Jason; but thou, O Artemis, wert busy with thy beast-slaying hounds.
XLVI
ON A MOTHER OF EIGHTEEN, AND HER BABY AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Name me Polyxena wife of Archelaus, child of Theodectes and hapless Demarete, and a mother as far as the birth-pangs; but fate overtook the child before full twenty suns, and myself died at eighteen years, just a mother and just a bride, so brief was all my day.
XLVII
ON A YOUNG WIFE
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
To his wife Paulina, holy of life and blameless, who died at nineteen years, Andronicus the physician paying memorial placed this witness the last of all.
XLVIII
ON ATTHIS OF CNIDOS
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Atthis who didst live for me and breathe thy last toward me, source of joyfulness formerly as now of tears, holy, much lamented, how sleepest thou the mournful sleep, thou whose head was never laid away from thy husband’s breast, leaving Theius alone as one who is no more; for with thee the hopes of our life went to darkness.
XLIX
ON PREXO, WIFE OF THEOCRITUS OF SAMOS LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
Who and of whom art thou, O woman, that liest under the Parian column? Prexo, daughter of Calliteles. And of what country? Of Samos. And also who buried thee? Theocritus, to whom my parents gave me in marriage. And of what diedst thou? Of child-birth. How old? Two-and-twenty. And childless? Nay, but I left a three-year-old Calliteles. May he live at least and come to great old age. And to thee, O stranger, may Fortune give all prosperity.
L
ON AMAZONIA OF THESSALONICA AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Why idly bemoaning linger you by my tomb? nothing worthy of lamentation is mine among the dead. Cease from plaints and be at rest, O husband, and you my children fare well, and keep the memory of Amazonia.
LI
ON A LACEDAEMONIAN NURSE AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Here earth holds the Peloponnesian woman who was the most faithful nurse of the children of Diogeitus.
LII
ON A LYDIAN SLAVE
DIOSCORIDES
A Lydian am I, yes a Lydian, but in a free tomb, O my master, thou didst lay thy fosterer Timanthes; prosperously mayest thou lengthen out an unharmed life, and if under the hand of old age thou shalt come to me, I am thine, O master, even in the grave.
LIII
ON A PERSIAN SLAVE
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Even now beneath the earth I abide faithful to thee, yes my master, as before, forgetting not thy kindness, in that then thou broughtest me thrice out of sickness to safe foothold, and now didst lay me here beneath sufficient shelter, calling me by name, Manes the Persian; and for thy good deeds to me thou shalt have servants readier at need.
LIV
ON A FAVOURITE DOG
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Thou who passest on the path, if haply thou dost mark this monument, laugh not, I pray thee, though it is a dog’s grave; tears fell for me, and the dust was heaped above me by a master’s hands, who likewise engraved these words on my tomb.
LV
ON A MALTESE WATCH-DOG
TYMNES
Here the stone says it holds the white dog from Melita, the most faithful guardian of Eumelus; Bull they called him while he was yet alive; but now his voice is prisoned in the silent pathways of night.
LVI
ON A TAME PARTRIDGE
AGATHIAS
No longer, poor partridge migrated from the rocks, does thy woven house hold thee in its thin withies, nor under the sparkle of fresh- faced Dawn dost thou ruffle up the edges of thy basking wings; the cat bit off thy head, but the rest of thee I snatched away, and she did not fill her greedy jaw; and now may the earth cover thee not lightly but heavily, lest she drag out thy remains.
LVII
ON A THESSALIAN HOUND
SIMONIDES
Surely even as thou liest dead in this tomb I deem the wild beasts yet fear thy white bones, huntress Lycas; and thy valour great Pelion knows, and splendid Ossa and the lonely peaks of Cithaeron.
LVIII
ON CHARIDAS OF CYRENE
CALLIMACHUS
Does Charidas in truth sleep beneath thee? If thou meanest the son of Arimmas of Cyrene, beneath me. O Charidas, what of the under world? Great darkness. And what of the resurrection? A lie. And Pluto? A fable; we perish utterly. This my tale to you is true; but if thou wilt have the pleasant one of the Samian, I am a large ox in Hades.
LIX
ON THEOGNIS OF SINOPE
SIMONIDES
I am the monument of Theognis of Sinope, over whom Glaucus set me in guerdon of their long fellowship.
LX
ON A DEAD FRIEND
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
This little stone, good Sabinus, is the record of our great friendship; ever will I require thee; and thou, if it is permitted, drink not among the dead of the water of Lethe for me.
LXI
ON AN UNHAPPY MAN
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
I Dionysius of Tarsus lie here at sixty, having never married; and would that my father had not.
LXII
ON A CRETAN MERCHANT
SIMONIDES
I Brotachus of Gortyna, a Cretan, lie here, not having come hither for this, but for traffic.
LXIII
ON SAON OF ACANTHUS
CALLIMACHUS
Here Saon, son of Dicon of Acanthus, rests in a holy sleep; say not that the good die.
CHAPTER IV
LITERATURE AND ART
I
THE GROVE OF THE MUSES
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Say thou that this grave is consecrate to the Muses, pointing to the books by the plane-trees, and that we guard it; and if a true lover of ours come hither, we crown him with our ivy.
II
THE VOICE OF THE WORLD
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
The herald of the prowess of heroes and the interpreter of the immortals, a second sun on the life of Greece, Homer, the light of the Muses, the ageless mouth of all the world, lies hid, O stranger, under the sea-washed sand.
III
THE TALE OF TROY
ALPHEUS
Still we hear the wail of Andromache, still we see all Troy toppling from her foundations, and the battling of Ajax, and Hector, bound to the horses, dragged under the city’s crown of towers, through the Muse of Maeonides, the poet with whom no one country adorns herself as her own, but the zones of both worlds.
IV
ORPHEUS
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
No longer, Orpheus, wilt thou lead the charmed oaks, no longer the rocks nor the lordless herds of the wild beasts; no longer wilt thou lull the roaring of the winds, nor hail and sweep of snowstorms nor dashing sea; for thou perishedst; and the daughters of Mnemosyne wept sore for thee, and thy mother Calliope above all. Why do we mourn over dead sons, when not even gods avail to ward off Hades from their children?
V
SAPPHO
POSIDIPPUS
Doricha, long ago thy bones are dust, and the ribbon of thy hair and the raiment scented with unguents, wherein once wrapping lovely Charaxus round thou didst cling to him carousing into dawn; but the white leaves of the dear ode of Sappho remain yet and shall remain speaking thy blessed name, which Naucratis shall keep here so long as a sea-going ship shall come to the lagoons of Nile.
VI
ERINNA (1)
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Thee, as thou wert just giving birth to a springtide of honeyed songs and just finding thy swan-voice, Fate, mistress of the threaded spindle, drove to Acheron across the wide water of the dead; but the fair labour of thy verses, Erinna, cries that thou art not perished, but keepest mingled choir with the Maidens of Pieria.
VII
ERINNA (2)
LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
The young maiden singer Erinna, the bee among poets, who sipped the flowers of the Muses, Hades snatched away to be his bride; truly indeed said the girl in her wisdom, “Thou art envious, O Death.”
VIII
ANACREON’S GRAVE (1)
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
O stranger who passest this the tomb of Anacreon, pour libation over me in going by; for I am a drinker of wine.
IX
ANACREON’S GRAVE (2)
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
O stranger who passest by the humble tomb of Anacreon, if thou hast had aught of good from my books pour libation on my ashes, pour libation of the jocund grape, that my bones may rejoice wetted with wine; so I, who was ever deep in the wine-steeped revels of Dionysus, I who was bred among drinking tunes, shall not even when dead endure without Bacchus this place to which the generation of mortals must come.
X
PINDAR
ANTIPATER OF SIDON
As high as the trumpet’s blast outsounds the thin flute, so high above all others did thy lyre ring; nor idly did the tawny swarm mould their waxen-celled honey, O Pindar, about thy tender lips: witness the horned god of Maenalus when he sang thy hymn and forgot his own pastoral reeds.
XI
THESPIS
DIOSCORIDES
I am Thespis who first shaped the strain of tragedy, making new partition of fresh graces among the masquers when Bacchus would lead home the wine-stained chorus, for whom a goat and a basket of Attic figs was as yet the prize in contests. A younger race reshape all this; and infinite time will make many more inventions yet; but mine are mine.
XII
SOPHOCLES
SIMMIAS
Gently over the tomb of Sophocles, gently creep, O ivy, flinging forth thy pale tresses, and all about let the rose-petal blow, and the clustered vine shed her soft tendrils round, for the sake of the wise- hearted eloquence mingled of the Muses and Graces that lived on his honeyed tongue.
XIII
ARISTOPHANES
PLATO
The Graces, seeking to take a sanctuary that will not fall, found the soul of Aristophanes.
XIV
RHINTHO
NOSSIS
With a ringing laugh, and a friendly word over me do thou pass by; I am Rhintho of Syracuse, a small nightingale of the Muses; but from our tragical mirth we plucked an ivy of our own.
XV
MELEAGER (1)
MELEAGER
Tread softly, O stranger; for here an old man sleeps among the holy dead, lulled in the slumber due to all, Meleager son of Eucrates, who united Love of the sweet tears and the Muses with the joyous Graces; whom God-begotten Tyre brought to manhood, and the sacred land of Gadara, but lovely Cos nursed in old age among the Meropes. But if thou art a Syrian, say /Salam/, and if a Phoenician, /Naidios/, and if a Greek, Hail; they are the same.
XVI
MELEAGER (2)
MELEAGER
Island Tyre was my nurse; and the Attic land that lies in Syrian Gadara is the country of my birth; and I sprang of Eucrates, I Meleager, the companion of the Muses, first of all who have run side by side with the Graces of Menippus. And if I am a Syrian, what wonder? We all dwell in one country, O stranger, the world; one Chaos brought all mortals to birth. And when stricken in years, I inscribed this on my tablets before burial, since old age is death’s near neighbour; but do thou, bidding hail to me, the aged talker, thyself reach a talking old age.
XVII
PYLADES THE HARP-PLAYER ALCAEUS OF MESSENE
All Greece bewails thee departed, Pylades, and cuts short her undone hair; even Phoebus himself laid aside the laurels from his unshorn tresses, honouring his own minstrel as was meet, and the Muses wept, and Asopus stayed his stream, hearing the cry from their wailing lips; and Dionysus’ halls ceased from dancing when thou didst pass down the iron path of Death.
XVIII
THE DEATH OF MUSIC
LEONTIUS
When Orpheus was gone, a Muse was yet haply left, but when thou didst perish, Plato, the harp likewise ceased; for till then there yet lived some little fragment of the old melodies, saved in thy soul and hands.