Ten livelong years have rolled away,
Since the twin lords of sceptred sway,
By Zeus endowed with pride of place,
The doughty chiefs of Atreus' race,
Went forth of yore,
To plead with Priam, face to face,
Before the judgment-seat of War!
A thousand ships from Argive land
Put forth to bear the martial band,
That with a spirit stern and strong
Went out to right the kingdom's wrong-
Pealed, as they went, the battle-song,
Wild as the vultures' cry;
When o'er the eyrie, soaring high,
In wild bereaved agony,
Around, around, in airy rings,
They wheel with oarage of their wings,
But not the eyas-brood behold,
That called them to the nest of old;
But let Apollo from the sky,
Or Pan, or Zeus, but hear the cry,
The exile cry, the wail forlorn,
Of birds from whom their home is torn-
On those who wrought the rapine fell,
Heaven sends the vengeful fiends of hell.
Even so doth Zeus, the jealous lord
And guardian of the hearth and board,
Speed Atreus' sons, in vengeful ire,
'Gainst Paris-sends them forth on fire,
Her to buy back, in war and blood,
Whom one did wed but many woo'd!
And many, many, by his will,
The last embrace of foes shall feel,
And many a knee in dust be bowed,
And splintered spears on shields ring
loud,
Of Trojan and of Greek, before
That iron bridal-feast be o'er!
But as he willed 'tis ordered all,
And woes, by heaven ordained, must fall-
Unsoothed by tears or spilth of wine
Poured forth too late, the wrath divine
Glares vengeance on the flameless shrine.
And we in grey dishonoured eld,
Feeble of frame, unfit were held
To join the warrior array
That then went forth unto the fray:
And here at home we tarry, fain
Our feeble footsteps to sustain,
Each on his staff-so strength doth wane,
And turns to childishness again.
For while the sap of youth is green,
And, yet unripened, leaps within,
The young are weakly as the old,
And each alike unmeet to hold
The vantage post of war!
And ah! when flower and fruit are o'er,
And on life's tree the leaves are sere,
Age wendeth propped its journey drear,
As forceless as a child, as light
And fleeting as a dream of night
Lost in the garish day!
But thou, O child of Tyndareus,
Queen Clytemnestra, speak! and say
What messenger of joy to-day
Hath won thine ear? what welcome
news,
That thus in sacrificial wise
E'en to the city's boundaries
Thou biddest altar-fires arise?
Each god who doth our city guard,
And keeps o'er Argos watch and ward
From heaven above, from earth below-
The mighty lords who rule the skies,
The market's lesser deities,
To each and all the altars glow,
Piled for the sacrifice!
And here and there, anear, afar,
Streams skyward many a beacon-star,
Conjur'd and charm'd and kindled well
By pure oil's soft and guileless spell,
Hid now no more
Within the palace' secret store.
O queen, we pray thee, whatsoe'er,
Known unto thee, were well revealed,
That thou wilt trust it to our ear,
And bid our anxious heart be healed!
That waneth now unto despair-
Now, waxing to a presage fair,
Dawns, from the altar, to scare
From our rent hearts the vulture Care.
strophe 1
List! for the power is mine, to chant on
high
The chiefs' emprise, the strength that
omens gave!
List! on my soul breathes yet a harmony,
From realms of ageless powers, and
strong to save!
How brother kings, twin lords of one
command,
Led forth the youth of Hellas in their
flower,
Urged on their way, with vengeful spear
and brand,
By warrior-birds, that watched the parting
hour.
Go forth to Troy, the eagles seemed to
cry-
And the sea-kings obeyed the sky-kings'
word,
When on the right they soared across the
sky,
And one was black, one bore a white tail
barred.
High o'er the palace were they seen to
soar,
Then lit in sight of all, and rent and tare,
Far from the fields that she should range
no more,
Big with her unborn brood, a
mother-hare.
Ah woe and well-a-day! but be the issue
fair!
antistrophe 1
And one beheld, the soldier-prophet true,
And the two chiefs, unlike of soul and
will,
In the twy-coloured eagles straight he
knew,
And spake the omen forth, for good and
in.
Go forth, he cried, and Priam's town shall
fall.
Yet long the time shall be; and flock and
herd,
The people's wealth, that roam before the
wall,
Shall force hew down, when Fate shall
give the word,
But O beware! lest wrath in Heaven
abide,
To dim the glowing battle-forge once
more,
And mar the mighty curb of Trojan pride,
The steel of vengeance, welded as for
war!
For virgin Artemis bears jealous hate
Against the royal house, the eagle-pair,
Who rend the unborn brood, insatiate-
Yea, loathes their banquet on the
quivering hare.
Ah woe and well-a-day! but be the issue
fair!
epode
For well she loves-the goddess kind and
mild-
The tender new-born cubs of lions bold,
Too weak to range-and well the sucking
child
Of every beast that roams by wood and
wold.
So to the Lord of Heaven she prayeth
still,
"Nay, if it must be, be the omen true!
Yet do the visioned eagles presage ill;
The end be well, but crossed with evil
too!"
Healer Apollo! be her wrath controll'd
Nor weave the long delay of thwarting
gales,
To war against the Danaans and withhold
From the free ocean-waves their eager
sails!
She craves, alas! to see a second life
Shed forth, a curst unhallowed sacrifice-
'Twixt wedded souls, artificer of strife,
And hate that knows not fear, and fell
device.
At home there tarries like a lurking
snake,
Biding its time, a wrath unreconciled,
A wily watcher, passionate to slake,
In blood, resentment for a murdered
child.
Such was the mighty warning, pealed of
yore-
Amid good tidings, such the word of fear,
What time the fateful eagles hovered o'er
The kings, and Calchas read the omen
clear.
In strains like his, once more,
Sing woe and well-a-day! but be the issue
fair!
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strophe 2
Zeus-if to The Unknown
That name of many names seem good-
Zeus, upon Thee I call.
Thro' the mind's every road
I passed, but vain are all,
Save that which names thee Zeus, the
Highest One,
Were it but mine to cast away the load,
The weary load, that weighs my spirit
down.
antistrophe 2
He that was Lord of old,
In full-blown pride of place and valour
bold,
Hath fallen and is gone, even as an old tale
told:
And he that next held sway,
By stronger grasp o'erthrown
Hath pass'd away!
And whoso now shall bid the
triumph-chant arise
To Zeus, and Zeus alone,
He shall be found the truly wise.
strophe 3
'Tis Zeus alone who shows the perfect
way
Of knowledge: He hath ruled,
Men shall learn wisdom, by affliction
schooled.
In visions of the night, like dropping rain,
Descend the many memories of pain
Before the spirit's sight: through tears and
dole
Comes wisdom o'er the unwilling soul-
A boon, I wot, of all Divinity,
That holds its sacred throne in strength,
above the sky!
antistrophe 3
And then the elder chief, at whose
command
The fleet of Greece was manned,
Cast on the seer no word of hate,
But veered before the sudden breath of
Fate-
Ah, weary while! for, ere they put forth
sail,
Did every store, each minish'd vessel, fail,
While all the Achaean host
At Aulis anchored lay,
Looking across to Chalcis and the coast
Where refluent waters welter, rock, and
sway;
strophe 4
And rife with ill delay
From northern Strymon blew the
thwarting blast-
Mother of famine fell,
That holds men wand'ring still
Far from the haven where they fain
would be!-
And pitiless did waste
Each ship and cable, rotting on the sea,
And, doubling with delay each weary
hour,
Withered with hope deferred th'
Achaeans' warlike flower.
But when, for bitter storm, a deadlier
relief,
And heavier with ill to either chief,
Pleading the ire of Artemis, the seer
avowed,
The two Atreidae smote their sceptres on
the plain,
And, striving hard, could not their tears
restrain!
antistrophe 4
And then the elder monarch spake aloud-
Ill lot were mine, to disobey!
And ill, to smite my child, my household's
love and pride!
To stain with virgin blood a father's
hands, and slay
My daughter, by the altar's side!
'Twixt woe and woe I dwell-
I dare not like a recreant fly,
And leave the league of ships, and fail
each true ally;
For rightfully they crave, with eager fiery
mind,
The virgin's blood, shed forth to lull the
adverse wind-
God send the deed be well!
strophe 5
Thus on his neck he took
Fate's hard compelling yoke;
Then, in the counter-gale of will abhorr'd,
accursed,
To recklessness his shifting spirit veered-
Alas! that Frenzy, first of ills and worst,
With evil craft men's souls to sin hath ever
stirred!
And so he steeled his heart-ah,
well-a-day-
Aiding a war for one false woman's sake,
His child to slay,
And with her spilt blood make
An offering, to speed the ships upon their
way!
antistrophe 5
Lusting for war, the bloody arbiters
Closed heart and ears, and would nor
hear nor heed
The girl-voice plead,
Pity me, Father! nor her prayers,
Nor tender, virgin years.
So, when the chant of sacrifice was done,
Her father bade the youthful priestly
train
Raise her, like some poor kid, above the
altar-stone,
From where amid her robes she lay
Sunk all in swoon away-
Bade them, as with the bit that mutely
tames the steed,
Her fair lips' speech refrain,
Lest she should speak a curse on Atreus'
home and seed,
strophe 6
So, trailing on the earth her robe of
saffron dye,
With one last piteous dart from her
beseeching eye.
Those that should smite she smote
Fair, silent, as a pictur'd form, but fain
To plead, Is all forgot?
How oft those halls of old,
Wherein my sire high feast did hold,
Rang to the virginal soft strain,
When I, a stainless child,
Sang from pure lips and undefiled,
Sang of my sire, and all
His honoured life, and how on him should
fall
Heaven's highest gift and gain!
antistrophe 6
And then-but I beheld not, nor can tell,
What further fate befell:
But this is sure, that Calchas' boding
strain
Can ne'er be void or vain.
This wage from justice' hand do sufferers
earn,
The future to discern:
And yet-farewell, O secret of To-morrow!
Fore-knowledge is fore-sorrow.
Clear with the clear beams of the
morrow's sun,
The future presseth on.
Now, let the house's tale, how dark
soe'er,
Find yet an issue fair!-
So prays the loyal, solitary band
That guards the Apian land.
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