Hymns and Epigrams — Callimachus
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ΚΑΛΛΙΜΑΧΟΥ ΥΜΝΟΙ ΚΑΙ ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΑ
Translation/edition: J. Banks (1856)
Language: English
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## Hymns and Epigrams


### The Hymn to Jupiter

[H1] At the libations to Jove, what else can be better to celebrate, than the god himself, ever mighty, ever king, driver of the earthborn, justice-dealer to the Celestials? How, then, shall we celebrate him, as Dictæan, or Lycæan: much in doubt is my mind; since his birth-place is disputed. Thou, Jove, men say, wast born on the mountains of Ida: and thou, Jove, others affirm in Arcadia: which of the twain, O father, have uttered-falsehood. The Cretans are ever liars: for a tomb to thee, O king, the Cretans have constructed. But thou art not dead. For thou existest ever. Thee Rhea bare on the Parrhasian height where the mountain is most screened with bushes. Thence is the spot sacred, neither doth any-thing-that-moveth-on-the-earth, when in need of Ilithyia, nor any woman, draw nigh to it; but the Apidanes call it the olden child-bed of Rhea. There when thy mother had laid thee down from her divine lap, straightway she began to seek a stream of water, wherein she might bathe the filth from her offspring, and lave in it thy skin.
[H1] But not yet was vast Ladon flowing, nor Erymanthus, clearest of rivers: as yet all Arcadia was unwatered, (though it was destined afterwards to be exceeding-well-watered,) since at that time, when Rhea loosed her zone in child-birth, of a truth moist Iaon reared many hollow oaks above it, and Melas bare many waggons, and above Carnion, moist though it now is, many serpents had made their lurking-holes, and a man would go a-foot over Crathis, and over pebbly Metope thirsting, though the plenteous water was lying ’neath his feet. Then, I wot, constrained by perplexity, august Rhea said: “Dear Earth, do thou, too, bear; for easy are thy throes.” The goddess spake, and having uplifted on high her great arm smote the mountain with a staff. So it was rent widely asunder at her bidding, and poured forth a vast flood. Therein having cleansed thy skin, O king, she swathed thee, and gave thee to Neda to carry into a secret-place in Crete, that so thou mightest be reared stealthily: to Neda most honoured of the Nymphs, who then were her mid-wives, and eldest-born after Styx and Philyra.
[H1] Nor did the goddess pay back vain thanks: for she named that flood Neda, which in full force somewhere over-against the very city of the Caucones, which is called Leprium, mingles with the sea; and the sons of Lycaon’s daughter, the she-bear, drink it as the most ancient water. When the nymph was leaving Thenæ, carrying thee, father Jove, towards Cnossus, (Thenæ was nigh to Cnossus,) then fell thy navel, O god: whence afterward the Cydonians call that plain Omphalian. But thee, O Jove, the associates of the Corybantes, the Dictæan Meliæ, took-to-their-arms: Adrastea lulled thee in a golden cradle: thou suckedst the full teat of the goat-Amalthea, and moreover atest sweet honey. For on a sudden sprung up the labours of the Panacrian bee on the mountains of-Ida, which men call Panacra. But around thee vigorously danced the Curetes the war-dance, rattling their arms, that so Cronus might hear with his ears the sound of the shield, and not thee crying. Nobly didst thou thrive, and nobly wast thou reared, heavenly Jove. And quickly didst thou grow up, quick came for thee the first growth of beard. Yet whilst still boyish thou musedst on all things proper-to-mature-age: wherefore even thy brothers, though being elder-born, grudged not heaven to thee to hold as thine allotted home. Now, ancient poets were not altogether true. They said the lot divided homes to the sons of Cronus in-three-divisions; but who, that was not foolish, would draw lots in the case of Olympus and Hades? For on equal terms ’tis meet to draw lots: but these differ in the highest degree. If I must fable, fain would I fable what might convince the ears of my audience. Not lots, but deeds of prowess, and thy Force and Might, which thou placedst near thy seat, made thee sovereign of the gods. And thou madest a bird distinguished-far-beyond others, messenger of thy portents, which I would thou wouldst manifest propitious to my friends. Thou chosest, too, the foremost of young men; not thou the knowing in naval-matters, nor the shield-brandishing warrior, no, nor the poet; but thou didst give up these at the instant to the lesser blessed-gods, different cares for different gods to care for; whilst for thyself thou chosest-out rulers-of-cities themselves; beneath whose hand is the tiller-of-the soil, and the skilful-in-arms, the rower, and all things. For what is not beneath the power of a ruler?
[H1] For example, we tell of the smiths of Vulcan, the armed-men of Mars, and the hunters of tunic-clad Diana, and of Phœbus them that duly know the courses of song. But from Jove are kings; since nothing is more godlike than Jove-sent kings. Therefore thou determinedst them to be thine allotment, and gavest them cities to guard, but thou thyself sittest in high citadels, overlooking such as govern the people under unjust judgments, and such as rule in the opposite manner. And amongst them thou hast placed affluence, and abundance of fortune, among all indeed, but not certainly in equal share. Now one may guess this in our ruler, for exceeding widely hath he distanced the rest. At even I wot he achieves what he may have devised at dawn; at even the matters of-chief-moment, and lesser matters at the time when he has conceived them. But others accomplish some projects in a year, others not in one year: whilst from others thou hast thyself entirely cut short accomplishment, and frustrated their eager-desire.
[H1] All hail, supreme son of Cronus, giver of good things, giver of security! Thy works who can celebrate? There hath not been, there will not be, one. Who could celebrate the works of Jove? Hail, Sire, hail again. But grant excellence and wealth. Neither without worth can wealth prosper men, nor worth without wealth. Give, then, both worth and wealth.

### The Hymn to Apollo

[H2] How hath the laurel-shoot of Apollo heaved! How the whole of the shrine! Afar, afar be ye, sinners. Now verily doth Phœbus knock-at the doors with beauteous foot. See you not? The Delian palm has nodded in a pleasant fashion on a sudden, and the swan sings sweetly on the air. Now of your own accord fall-back, ye bolts of the doors, and of-yourselves, ye bars. For no longer is the god afar-off. Make ready, ye young men, for the song and the choir. Not to every one doth Apollo manifest himself, but to only the good. Whoso shall have seen him, great is he: small that man who hath not seen him.
[H2] We shall behold thee, O Far-darter, and shall be no more of small account. Nor silent lyre nor noiseless tread should the servants of Phœbus have, when he sojourns among them, if they have a mind to accomplish marriages, and to cut off gray hair, and that their walls should stand firm on ancient foundations. I honour the boys, since the lyre is no more idle.
[H2] Listen, and keep-holy-silence at the song in honour of Apollo. Even the deep keeps-holy-silence, when minstrels celebrate on lyre or bow the implements of Lycorean Phœbus. Nor does Thetis, his mother, plaintively bewail Achilles, whenever she has heard the Io Pæan, Io Pæan. And even the tearful rock defers its sorrow, the rock, which remains fixt, a dripping stone, in Phrygia, the marble in the place of a woman, with a mournful utterance. Sing Io! Io! it is ill to contend with the gods. Whoso contends with immortals, would contend with my king, and whoso with my king, would strive even with Apollo. Apollo will honour the choir, because it sings to his taste; for he is able, seeing that he sits at Jove’s right hand. Nor will the choir sing Apollo for one day only; for he is celebrated-in-many-hymns. Who would not easily sing of Apollo? Golden are both the garment, and the clasp of Apollo, his lyre, his Lyctian bow, and his quiver: golden, too, his sandals; for Apollo is rich in gold, and has also many possessions. One might guess this at Pytho. And, indeed, he is ever-beauteous, ever young; never hath so much as a little down come upon the soft cheeks of Phœbus. But his locks distil odorous oils upon the ground. Not mere oil do the tresses of Apollo drop down, but healing itself: and in whatsoever city those dews shall have fallen on the ground, all things are wont to become safe. Great, too, in art is no one so much as Apollo. He has obtained for his lot the archer, he the minstrel; for to Phœbus bow as well as song is intrusted. To him, likewise, belong divinations and diviners: and from Phœbus physicians have learned the art-of-delaying death. Phœbus also we call Nomian, even from that time, even from the time when by Amphrysus he tended the yoked mares, fired with love for the young Admetus. Easily would the cattle-pasture become abundant, nor would the bleating she-goats lack younglings, on which, as they pasture, Apollo hath cast his eyes. Nor would sheep be without milk, or unfruitful, but all would suckle lambs, and the ewe that-bare-one would quickly become a dam-of-twins. And following Phœbus men are wont to measure out cities. For Phœbus ever delights in founding cities, and Phœbus himself lays their foundations. At four years of age Phœbus laid the first foundations in fair Ortygia, near the circular lake. The huntress Artemis was wont to bring constantly the heads of Cynthian she-goats, but from them Apollo was weaving an altar. The foundations he laid with horns; from horns he built the altar itself, and placed under it walls of horn around. Thus first learned Phœbus to raise foundations. Phœbus, too, pointed-out to Battus my fertile native-country, and to his people entering Libya a crow, propitious to the leader-of-a colony, was guide, and sware that he would give walls to our sovereigns. Apollo ever keeps-his-oath-inviolate. Many, O Apollo, call thee Boedromian, many Clarian (for everywhere thy name is manifold). But I style thee Carnean: it is my country’s wont to do so. To thee, O Carnean god, Sparta, this was the first settlement; a second, again, was Thera; a third, I wot, the city of Cyrene. From Sparta the sixth descendant of Œdipus led thee to the colonizing of Thera, and from Thera vigorous Battus consigned thee to the country of Asbystis. He built thee a very noble temple; and in the city instituted a yearly festival, at which many bulls, great king, fall on their haunches for the last time.
[H2] Io! Io! Carnean god, much supplicated: thine altars carry flowers indeed in spring as many and various as the seasons bring, when the Zephyr breathes dew; and in winter the sweet crocus. And ever hast thou eternal fire, nor ever do ashes consume yesterday’s coal.
[H2] Greatly, I wot, joyed Phœbus, when Enyo’s belted heroes danced with brown Libyan women, when the settled seasons of the Carnean festival arrived for them. But the Dorians were not yet able to approach the fountain of Cyre, but were inhabiting Aziris thick-girt with woods. These the god himself beheld, and showed them to his bride, as he stood on the point of Myrtusa, when the daughter of Hypsæus slew the lion, ravager of the oxen of Eurypylus.
[H2] No other choir saw Apollo more worthy of a god than that, nor to other city gave he so many advantages as to Cyrene, being mindful of the ancient rape: no, nor do the Battiadæ themselves honour other god more than Phœbus. We hear Io, Io Pæan! for the Delphic people invented this refrain first of all in honour of thee, when thou didst display the far-range of thy golden bow and arrows. As thou wentest down to Pytho there encountered thee a monstrous beast, a terrible serpent. This monster thou killedst, hurling one swift arrow after another: while the people shouted in acclamation, “Io! Io Pæan! let fly thy shaft; thy mother bare thee a helper from-the-first.” And thus thou art celebrated even from that time. The envious-tale spake stealthily to Apollo’s ears, I love not the minstrel who does not sing as much as doth the sea. The envious speech Apollo both spurned with his foot, and answered thus:
[H2] “Vast is the tide of the Assyrian river, but it draws with it the many defilements of earth, and much refuse with its flood. Yet not from every river do the Melissæ carry water for Ceres, but a small fount from a sacred spring, which rills pure and unpolluted, the choicest of its kind, from this they draw.” Hail, King! and may Momus go thither, where ruin dwells.

### Hymn to Artemis

[H3] We celebrate Artemis, for she is not light to minstrels to forget, Artemis, to whom the bow and hare-shooting, and the wide choir and disporting on the mountains are a care: commencing, how that when sitting, yet a blooming child, on the knees of her sire, she thus addressed her parent: “Grant me, kind father, to preserve eternal maidenhood, and many-names, that so Phœbus may not vie with me. And give me arrows and bow. Grant it, sire! I ask not a quiver of thee, nor a large bow: the Cyclopes will forthwith forge me arrows, and fashion me a flexible bow: but I ask both bringing-of-light, and to be girt as far as the knee with a tunic of-coloured-border, that I may slay wild beasts. And give me sixty ocean-nymphs to-form-my-chorus, all of-the-same-age, all yet unmarriageable maidens. Give me likewise as attendants twenty Amnisian nymphs, who may duly take care of my buskins, and, when I no longer am shooting lynxes and stags, may tend my fleet dogs. Give me all mountains, and assign to me any city, whichsoever thou choosest. For ’twill be rare, when Artemis shall go down into a city. On mountains will I dwell; then only will I mingle in the cities of men, when women harassed by sharp throes call on a helper, women whom when I was first born the fates destined me to aid, because my mother, both when bringing me forth, and when bearing me in her womb, suffered no pains, but without labours deposited me from her lap.” Thus having spoken, the maiden wished to touch the beard of her sire, and oft out-stretched her hands to-no-purpose; until at last she might touch it. Then her father assented with a smile, and said, as he fondled her, “When goddesses bear me such offspring, little care should I have for the wrath of jealous Juno: Have, child, whatever you ask of-your-own-choice; but other yet greater gifts will your sire bestow. Thrice ten cities will I present to you, not one fenced-town only; thrice ten cities for you, which shall not learn to honour any other god, but thee alone, and shall learn to be named the cities of Artemis. And I will give thee many cities to measure out in common with other gods, on the continent, and islands: in all shall be altars and sacred groves of Artemis, and thou shalt be guardian over ways and harbours.” Thus spake he, and with his head ratified his speech. Then went the maiden toward Leucus, a mountain of Crete, tressed with woods; and thence toward ocean: and many Nymphs chose she for herself, all nine-years-old, all yet unmarriageable damsels. Right glad was the river Cæratus, glad was Tethys, because she was sending her daughters as attendants on the daughter of Latona. And straightway she proceeded to visit the Cyclopes: whom she found in the island Lipara, (Lipara of-later-times, but then its name was Meligunis,) at the anvils of Vulcan standing around the red-hot-mass. Now a great work was being urged forward.
[H3] They were forging a horse-trough for Neptune. But the Nymphs feared, when they saw the terrible monsters, like unto the jutting-crags of Ossa; for all of them had beneath their brows an eye with-one-pupil, resembling a shield made-of-four-ox-hides, fearfully glancing from under them; and when they heard the noise of the anvils sounding loudly, and the great blast of the bellows, and the heavy groaning of the Cyclopes themselves. For Ætna was echoing, and Trinacria, settlement of the Sicani, was echoing, and Italy, her neighbour, whilst Cyrnus was uttering a loud sound in answer, when they lifted above their shoulders their hammers, and toiled with great effort, striking with-alternate-bursts either brass or iron gleaming from the forge. Wherefore the Ocean-nymphs had not the courage either to look them in the face, or to hear their din, without anxiety. And no marvel! for those monsters, even those daughters of the blessed gods, who are no longer very-little, never behold without shuddering. But when any one of the maidens acts disobediently towards her mother, that mother calls for the Cyclopes, Arges or Steropes, to her child. Then from the interior of the house comes Mercury, besmeared with black ashes. Straightway he scares the child, and she sinks into her mother’s bosom, placing her hands over her eyes. Thou, damsel, too, though at an earlier period, when as yet three-years-old, (when Latona came with thee in her arms, at the invitation of Vulcan, that he might present thee natal-gifts,) as Brontes placed thee on his brawny knees, graspedst the shaggy hair from his huge chest, and didst tear it out perforce: so even to this time the middle of his chest is hairless, just as when mange having settled on the hairy scalp of a man is wont to consume his hair.
[H3] Therefore very boldly didst thou then address them thus: “Ye Cyclopes, come now, forge me likewise a Cydonian bow, and arrows, and a hollow quiver for my darts, for I too, like as Apollo, am a child of Latona. And if I with my bow shall have captured a wild beast, or some huge wild-animal, that shall the Cyclopes eat.”

Thou saidst. They fulfilled thy mandate, and quickly, O goddess, didst thou arm thyself; and straight go again after the whelps, and come to Pan’s Arcadian abode. Now he was cutting-up the flesh of a Mænalian lynx, that his bitches with sucking whelps might eat food. Then the bearded god gave thee two hounds, pieballed, and three with-hanging-ears, and one spotted; which, I ween, dragging backwards very lions, when they have clutched their necks, are wont to draw them while still alive to their kennel: seven Spartan-hounds too he gave swifter than the winds, which are most fleet in pursuing fawns as well as the hare not-shutting-its eyes, and in marking the lair of the stag, and where are the haunts of the porcupine, and in tracking the footstep of the gazelle.

Departing thence, (and with thee sped thy hounds,) thou didst find at the jutting base of the Parrhasian mount bounding does, a rich prize, which ever were wont to pasture on the banks of dark-pebbled Anaurus, larger in size than bulls, and gold was gleaming from their antlers. On a sudden thou wast amazed, and saidst to thine heart, “This would be a first-fruit-of-the-chase worthy of Artemis.” The whole number was five. And four thou didst capture, by swiftly-running, without the chase of dogs, to bear thy swift car. The other one, having fled, by Juno’s counsels, across the river Celadon, that so it might become in after-time a labour to Hercules, the Cerynean hill received.

O virgin Artemis, slayer of Tityus, golden are thine arms, and zone, and thou yokedst a chariot of-gold, and on the stags didst throw golden bits. But whither first began thy car drawn-by-horned-cattle to lift thee? O’er Thracian Hæmus, whence comes the hurricane of Boreas, bringing to the cloakless adverse frost. And where didst thou cut thy pine-torch? From what flame didst thou kindle it? On Mysian Olympus; but thou sheddest into it the breath of unextinguished flame, which, I wot, thy sire’s lightnings let fall. And how oft madest thou trial of thy silver bow, O goddess? First against an elm, next at an oak didst thou discharge it; then thirdly at a wild-beast. The fourth time thou didst aim it no more at an oak, but at a city of unrighteous men, who both against themselves, and as touching strangers, were performing many sinful acts.
[H3] Wretched are they, on whom thou shalt inflict heavy wrath! Their beasts murrain consumes, and hail their tillage: and old men mourn over sons, whilst the wives either die stricken in child-bed, or bear children in exile; nothing of them stands erect on a sound footing. But for those, whom thou shalt have beheld smilingly and propitiously, for them their field brings forth the ear-of-corn, well thrives the birth of cattle, well their wealth, neither come they to the tomb, save when they bear some weight-of-many years. Nor doth division, which is wont to mar families even though well-established, wound their race; but around one hospitable-board brothers’ wives and husbands’ sisters place their seats.

O Lady, amongst these may he be, whosoever is a true friend to me, and may I myself be likewise, O Queen: may the song ever be my care, wherein shall be the nuptials of Latona, wherein mention of thee shall be frequent, and Apollo, and the whole of thy labours, thy dogs, thy bows, thy chariots, which lightly bear thee conspicuous as thou art, when thou drivest to the mansion of Jove. There they receive, meeting thee in the vestibules, thine arms, Acacesian Mercury, Apollo the wild beast which thou mayest be bringing: before that, I mean, strong Hercules came, for now no longer hath Phœbus this duty. For such a hero the Tirynthian stands unwearied before the doors expecting, if haply thou shouldest come bringing some rich dainty. And at him all the gods laugh incessantly, and especially his mother-in-law herself when from thy chariot he brings a very large bull, or a yet gasping wild boar by his hinder foot, and instructs thee much with this shrewd speech: “Cast at noxious beasts, that mortals may address thee, like me, as helper. Leave goats and hares to feed on the mountains; for what harm can goats and hares do? Wild boars spoil the tillage, wild boars the young trees; and wild-bulls are a great evil to men. Cast thine arrows at these also.” So is he wont to speak, and quickly toils he over the huge beast. For, though changed into a god as to his limbs ’neath the Phrygian oak, he has not ceased from his voracity; still with him is present that paunch, with which of old he encountered Theodamas ploughing.
[H3] And for thee the Amnisian nymphs rub down the stags loosed from under the yoke, and bring before them much fodder, having mown from the mead of Juno the quick-growing trefoil, which also Jove’s steeds eat; and they are wont to fill golden troughs with water, that so the stags may have a pleasing draught. But thou comest thyself to thy sire’s abode, and the gods all alike invite thee to a seat, but thou sittest beside Apollo.—Now when the nymphs shall encircle thee with a choir, nigh to the sources of Egyptian Inopus, or Pitane, (for thine, too, is Pitane,) or at Limnæ, or where, O goddess, thou hast come from Scythia to dwell in Alæ Araphenides, for thou hatest the solemn rites of Tauri, then may my heifers not be cleaving for hire, under other ploughman, a-day’s-work of fallow-land. For surely lame, and weary in their necks, they would come to their stall, e’en though they should be Tymphæan, nine years old and strong-with-their-horns, such as are far best in cleaving a deep furrow; since never hath the Sun god passed-by that beauteous choir, but stays his chariot to gaze on it, and so the days are lengthened.

But which of isles, I pray, and what mountain pleaseth thee most? What harbour, what kind of city? And whom of Nymphs lovest thou specially? what heroines hast thou taken for companions? Say, goddess, thou to us, and I will sing to others.
[H3] Of isles Doliche, of cities Perga pleaseth thee, Taygete of mountains, ay, and the harbours of Euripus. And far beyond others lovedst thou a Gortynian nymph, a slayer-of-stags, Britomartis, of-certain-aim: fired with the love of whom Minos of yore traversed the mountains of Crete. But the Nymph one while was hiding herself under the thick-foliaged oaks, at another time in the water-meadows; whilst he for nine months was resorting to steeps and crags, and ceased not the pursuit, until when, now well-nigh caught, she leapt into the sea from topmost jutting-crag, and sprang into the nets of fishermen, which saved her; whence in-after-time Cydonians call the Nymph, Dictynna, and the mountain from which the Nymph leaped, Dictæan: and set-up altars to her, and still perform sacrifices. Now the chaplet on that day is either pine or mastich-tree, but myrtle their hands touch not. For ’twas then that a myrtle-branch entangled itself in the maiden’s robes, when she was flying: whence she was very wroth with the myrtle. O sovereign Upis, of fair countenance, bearer-of-light, thee, too, the Cretans call by a surname from that Nymph. But, in truth, thou tookest-for-a-companion Cyrene, to whom of old thou gavest of thine own accord two hunting-dogs, with which the damsel, daughter of Hypseus, gained the prize beside the tomb of Pelias. And thou madest the auburn-haired wife of Cephalus, son-of-Deion, thy comrade-in-the chase: yea, and they say thou lovedst fair Anticlea, even as thine own eyes, Nymphs, who first bare thy swift bow, and quivers holding arrows upon their shoulders; but their right shoulders were free from burden, and their bosom was ever exposed to view. And furthermore, thou approvedst altogether Atalanta, the strong-of-foot, the boar-slaying daughter of Iasius, the Arcadian, and taughtest her both hunting-with-dogs and skill in shooting. With her not the invited hunters of the Calydonian boar find fault. For the tokens of victory entered Arcadia, and still it preserves the teeth of the beast.

Nor do I suspect that Hylæus, and senseless Rhæcus, even though they hate her, will in Hades find fault with the archer: for their loins, with the blood of which the Mænalian ridge flowed, will not join-them-in-their-lie.
[H3] August goddess, of-many-fanes, of-many-cities, all hail! Chitone! colonist of Miletus. For Neleus took thee for his leader, when with his ships he put-out-to-sea from Athens. Goddess of Chesium and Imbrasus, filling the first-seats: for thee too Agamemnon dedicated the rudder of his ship in thy temple, a charm against stress-of-weather, when thou didst imprison the winds for him, when the Achæan ships were sailing to trouble the cities of the Trojans, in wrath for Rhamnusian Helen’s sake. In truth it was to thee that Prætus founded two temples; one indeed of thee as girl-protectress, because thou broughtest together for him his daughters roaming over the Azenian mountains; the other to thee as mild goddess at Lussi, because thou hadst removed their wild nature from his daughters. To thee also the Amazons eager-after war, of-old on the sea-shore of Ephesus set up an image beneath a beech-tree’s trunk; and Hippo performed a sacred rite to thee; and they, O sovereign Upis, danced an-armed-dance around, first an armed dance with shields, and next in a ring, when they had made a broad chorus, and shrill pipes sounded a sweet accompaniment, that they might all together beat the ground; (for not as yet did they bore the bones of fawns, a work of Minerva, hurtful to the stag,) yet the sound ran to Sardis, and to the Berecynthian range. They with their feet kept making a loud tramping sound, whilst their quivers rattled with the movement. Now around that image truly in-after-time a broad temple has been built: than which the dawn shall behold nought more divine, or more splendid: easily would it surpass Pytho. Wherefore, I wot, also in his madness insolent Lygdamis threatened to despoil it, and brought against it an army of mare-milking Cimmerians, like-to-the sea-sands in number; who, ’tis said, dwell near to the strait itself of the heifer, daughter of Inachus. Ah! wretched amongst kings, how vastly he erred: for he was not destined to return back again to Scythia, either himself, or any other of the many, whose waggons stood in the plain of Cayster, for in defence of Ephesus ever thy bows and arrows are prepared.
[H3] O Lady Munychia, watching-over-harbours, hail, Pheræan goddess. Let none contemn Artemis: for neither to Æneus, having lightly esteemed her altar, did noble contentions come home. Nor let any one dare to contend with her in stag-hunting or shooting; for not even did the son of Atreus exult in a slight requital. Nor let any dare to woo the virgin; for neither Otus, nor Oarion gained by the wooing a goodly union. Nor let any shun her yearly choir. Not even did Hippo without sorrow refuse to dance around the altar. Hail, mighty queen, and kindly receive my strain.

### The Hymn to Delos

[H4] At what time or when, O my soul, wilt thou sing of the Holy Delos, Apollo’s nurse? Verily all the Cyclades, which lie in the sea the holiest of isles, are well-worthy-to-be-sung: but Delos must bear-off from the Muses the first honours, because she washed and swathed Phœbus, king of minstrelsy, and first celebrated him as a god.

As the Muses hate the bard, who shall not have sung of Pimplea, so Phœbus, whosoever shall have been neglectful of Delos. Now unto Delos will I give-a-share in song, that so Cynthian Apollo may love me, as caring for his dear nurse.

Now she, breezy and barren, as lashed-by-the sea, and overrun by divers rather than by horses, is set in the deep: which rolling vastly around her, throws-off-upon her the white spray of the Icarian wave; wherefore also sea-sailing fishermen have made her their abode. Yet none grudge her being named among the first, when the isles are gathered to Ocean and Titanian Tethys, and ever she is first and leads the way. But close-in-her-track follows Phœnician Cyrnus, not-to-be despised, and Eubœan Macris of the Ellopians, and lovely Sardo, and the isle to which Venus swam first from the waves: and she preserves it in requital for her landing. With well-fenced towers they are strong-and-safe, but Delos with Apollo. What is a more firm rampart? Walls indeed and stones might fall under the violent-blast of Strymonian Boreas, but the god is ever undisturbed. O dear Delos, such is the helper who protects thee! Yet since exceeding-many hymns revolve around thee, in what song shall I inweave thee? What will be grateful to thee to hear? Shall it be, how at-the-first the mighty god striking mountains with three-barbed trident, which the Telchines wrought for him, made the isles in-the-seas? and from below from the lowest depths removed them all as with a lever, and rolled them into the sea? and firmly fixed from their foundations some indeed in the deep, that so they might forget the main-land: whilst constraint did not press thee, but thou floatedst free in the seas, and thine olden name was Asterie, because that, fleeing from an union with Jove, from heaven like a star thou leapedst into a deep trench. So long as indeed golden Latona had not yet frequented thee, so long thou wast still Asterie, and wert not as yet called Delos. Oft-times sailors coming from Trœzen, the city of Xanthus, to Ephyra within the Saronic gulf, beheld thee; and on going back from Ephyra, they indeed saw thee again no more: for thou hadst sped to the rapid strait of narrow Euripus, flowing with a-booming sound. And on the same day spurning the flood of the sea of Chalcis thou hadst swum even to Sunium, a headland of the Athenians, or Chios, or the bosom of the isle Parthenia moistened by the wave, (for it was not yet Samos,) where the nymphs of Mycale, neighbours of Ancæus, entertained-thee-hospitably.

But when to Apollo thou affordedst a natal soil, the sea-roaming mariners gave thee this name in requital, because that no longer didst thou float obscure upon the deep, but hadst set the roots of thy feet in the waves of the Ægean Sea.
[H4] Nor didst thou dread Juno in her wrath, who indeed was wont to be terribly angry at all women-in-childbed, who brought forth sons to Jove: and with Latona specially, because she alone was about to bear a son to Zeus more dear than Mars. Wherefore also, I wot, she both kept watch within the heaven, being greatly wroth and beyond-the-power of-words; and was hindering Latona distressed by her throes, for two watchers had been set in watch over her, keeping-jealous-eyes upon the earth. One, namely impetuous Mars, sitting on a lofty peak of Thracian Hæmus, was watching in arms the surface of the main-land, whilst his horses meanwhile were being stalled in the seven-recessed cave of Boreas: but the other, the daughter of Thaumas, sat as spy of the broad isles, having hastily sped to Mimas. Then they sate threatening the cities, as many as Latona strove-to-reach, and kept preventing them from receiving her. Arcady was shrinking, Parthenius, holy mountain of Auge, was shrinking, and shrinking back was the olden Phenæus. Shrank too all Peloponnese, as much as is bordering on the Isthmus, save Ægialus and Argos, for she had not trodden those paths, since Juno had had Inachus allotted to her. And in one and the same course Aonia was shrinking: whilst Dirce and Strophie were following, holding the hand of dark-pebbled father Ismenus. Far behind followed Asopus tardy-of-limb, for he had been stricken by lightning. (But the nymph, Native Melia, dizzy-with-fear ceased from the choir, and paled her cheek, in anxiety-for the coeval oak, when she saw the foliage of Helicon shaken-violently. Tell me, my goddesses, Muses, is it very truth that oaks were born at the same time as Nymphs. Glad are the Nymphs, when rain nourishes the oaks; and when the oaks no more have leaves, then in turn the Nymphs bewail.) But with them indeed, though yet in-the-womb, Apollo was fiercely wroth, and spake in his threats against Thebes a word not unfulfilled: “Thebe, wherefore, wretched as thou art, dost thou inquire thy present fate? Do not yet, do not force me to prophesy against-my-will. Not yet is the tripod’s seat at Pytho a care to me, nor yet hath died the huge serpent, but still that monster with dreadful jaws creeping down from Plistus enwreaths snowy Parnassus with nine coils. Yet nevertheless I will say something more clear, than if it were from the laurel: fly far: yet will I overtake thee quickly, to bathe my bow and arrows in blood; for thou hast had allotted to thee the children of a blasphemous woman. Not thou at least, nor Cithæron, shall be own nurse to me. Being pure, may I also be dear to the pure-and-holy.” So spake he, and Latona, turning back again, retired.
[H4] But when the Achaian cities rejected her on her coming, Helice, friend of Neptune, and Bura, the ox-stall of Dexamenus, son of Æneus, then began she to turn her steps back to Thessaly. But Anaurus fled, and great Larissa, and the heights of Chiron. Peneus too shunned her, as he rolled through Tempe. O Juno, in thee then a ruthless heart lay even at that time. Neither wast thou moved or hadst pity, when stretching out both arms in-vain she spake thus: “Ye Nymphs of Thessaly, children of the River, bid your sire soothe his vast flood; cling to his beard, and supplicate, that I may bear children of Jove in the waters. Phthiotian Peneus, wherefore now viest thou with the winds? O father, thou bestridest not surely a horse running-for-a-prize. Are thy feet ever, I pray, thus swift? Or in my case are they alone fleet? and hast thou caused thyself to fly to day only, on a sudden? But he hears not! O burden mine, whither do I bear you? for my wretched tendons flag. O Pelion, bride-chamber of Philyra, nay, do thou stay! stay, for even wild lionesses often in thy mountains have cast-forth-with-labour the savage fruit of their throes.” But even Peneus, I-wot, answered her, as he poured forth tears. “O Latona, Necessity is a mighty goddess, for I do not, O Lady, reject thy pangs: I know that other women also in child-bed have been cleansed by me. But Juno has threatened me immoderately. Behold from far what a watcher keeps a look-out from the topmost part of the mountain, who would with-ease tear me out from the lowest depths. What plan shall I adopt? Is it any pleasure to you that Peneus should perish? Let it come! For thy sake I will endure the day of fate, even though I should be destined to be ruined for ever, having the ebbing channel of my stream dried-up, and be called alone most contemptible among rivers. Lo, here I am! what more need I say! do but invoke Ilythyia.” He spake, and forced-back his vast flood. But Mars having lifted the uprooted peaks of Pangæum was about to hurl them into his tide, and to bury his floods beneath them. Then from on high he rattled, and struck his shield with the point of his spear. So it clanged with a warlike sound. Trembled the mountains of Ossa, the Cranonian plain, and the stormy edges of Pindus: the whole of Thessaly danced with fear, for such a sound wrung from his shield. And as when all the recesses of Mount Ætna smoking with fire are convulsed as the giant beneath-the-earth, Briareus, moves himself to the other shoulder, and the furnaces bellow under Vulcan’s fire-tongs, and the works at the same time; and terribly resound the fire-wrought ewers, and tripods, falling one upon the other: even such then was the rattling of the circular shield.
[H4] Yet Peneus did not give way again, but was abiding firm even as at the first, and stayed his swift currents, until the daughter of Cæus cried, “Save thyself, and farewell! save thyself! do not thou for my sake suffer ill, in requital for this compassion: nay, thou shalt have a return of thy kindness.” She spake, and after she had laboured much before, approached the isles of-the-sea; but they did not receive her, when she came towards them, no, not the Echinades having a port convenient for ships, nor Corcyra which is most hospitable of all the rest; for Iris from lofty Mimas being wroth with them all, kept driving them far, far away: while they, whomsoever Latona chanced to reach, by reason of her clamour were fleeing-in-alarm, all together, up and down the waves.

Then came she to ancient Cos, the island of Merops, the sacred retreat of the heroine Chalciope. But this word of her son checked her: “Nay, mother, do not thou bring me forth here; neither, in truth, do I blame, nor bear ill-will to, the island; for it is both fruitful, and abounding in pasture, if any other isle is. But to it from the Fates some other god is due, of the high race of Saviours: beneath whose diadem shall come both continents not unwilling to be ruled by a Macedonian, and the isles which are set in the sea, even as far as the East, and the quarter whence his swift steeds bear the Sun. And he shall be wise in the manners and habits of his sire. At some future time, too, at last shall come to us a common struggle, whensoever, having raised up the barbarian sword and Celtic warfare against the Greeks, the giants of-a-later-brood shall rush-on from the farthest West, like unto snows, or equal-in-number to stars, when they pasture thickest in the air. Then fortresses and villages of Locrians, the Delphic heights, and plains of Crissa and valleys of the continent, would mourn all-around: and behold the rich fruits of the neighbouring soil, as it burns; and no longer only by hearsay, but at length with clear gaze would they behold around the temple the phalanxes of foes: and at length, close to my tripods, swords and impious belts, and hostile shields, which shall cause to the Gauls, a senseless crowd, an evil retreat: part of which shall be my prize, but part on the Nile, having seen their wearers expiring amidst fire, shall-be-laid-up to be the rewards of a king who-hath-toiled-much; which oracles, O Ptolemy, I make clear to thee! Greatly beyond doubt wilt thou approve the seer, that is yet in the womb, hereafter all thy days but do thou, mother, understand thus. Conspicuous in the water is one slight island roaming amidst the open-seas, and its feet are never in one place, but it floats on the water’s ebb and flow, like an asphodel-stalk, whither south wind, or east, or the sea may bear it. Thither bear me. For to that isle you will come, willing to receive you.”
[H4] The other isles of the sea, as he spake thus much, began to flee away, but thou, song-loving Asteria, descendedst from Eubœa, to visit the round Cyclades, not by any means long before: for still behind thee clung the sea-weed of Geræstus, and thou stayedst in the midst of them; and, pitying Latona, didst burn all the sea-weed, since thou wert exceeding-vexed at heart to see the wretched mother weighed down by her pangs: “Juno, do with me what thou wilt: for I regard not thy threats; cross, cross over to me, O Latona!” Thou spakest: and she ineffably ceased from her vexatious wandering, and sat beside the stream of Inopus, which the earth then sends forth at its greatest depth, when Nile descends from Ethiopian steep with swollen flood; then loosed she her girdle, and leaned back with her shoulders against the trunk of a palm-tree, worn as she was by grievous distress, and damp sweats were flowing over her skin. Then spake she, in her weakness, “Why, child, do you bear down your mother? this, dear one, is thine island floating on the sea. Be born, my child, be born, and gently come forth from the womb.”
[H4] But thou, hard-hearted wife of Jove, wast not likely, I ween, long to be without hearing of this: such a messenger was she that ran to thee, and said, while yet she panted, and her speech was mingled with fear: “O honoured Juno, far foremost of goddesses, thine am I, all things are thine: and thou sittest own queen of Olympus, and we fear none other female rule;—thou, sovereign, shalt know the causer of thy wrath. Latona, know you, looseth her girdle in an island, all the rest utterly rejected and would not receive her, but Asterie hath by name invited her as she approached; Asterie, base refuse of the deep. Thou, even thou, knowest her. But, dear mistress, for thou hast power, help, awful goddess, thy servants, who tread the earth’s surface at thy bidding.” So spake she, and then sate beneath the golden throne, like a hound of Artemis, which, what time it shall cease from the swift chase, sits, hunting dog as she is, beside her steps, and her ears are all-erect, ever ready to catch the cheer of the goddess. Such-like did Iris, daughter of Thaumas, sit beneath the throne. Now she never forgets her station there, not even when sleep shall rest his wing in-forgetfulness, but having bent her head a little toward the projection of the great throne, sleeps there slant-wise. Never does she unloose her cincture, nor her fleet hunting-shoes, for fear that her mistress should speak some sudden mandate. Then Juno, being grievously wrathful, thus addressed her: “Thus then, ye disgraces to Jove, ye would be wooed by stealth, and bear children secretly, and that not where wretched female-servants-at-the-mill labour in hard child-birth, but where sea-calves breed amid the barren rocks. But with Asterie for this error I am no-wise wroth; nor is there reason wherefore I should treat her harshly, as it were right, (for very wrongly hath she accorded the favour to Latona,) but I honour her in a wonderful degree, for that she has not pressed my bed, and has preferred Ocean to Jove.” So spake she, and swans, tuneful minstrels of the god, having left Mæonian Pactolus circled seven times around Delos, and chaunted over Latona in childbirth, birds of the Muses as they are, most tuneful of winged fowl. Hence afterward the boy fitted to the lyre just so many strings as the times the swans had chaunted over her throes. Not yet an eighth time did they sing, for he leapt forth; and then to far distance the Nymphs of Delos, stock of an ancient river, sang the holy song of Ilithyia, and forthwith æther’s brazen vault gave back the thrilling chaunt. Nor was Juno wroth, for Jove had removed her wrath. Golden then became all thy foundations, Delos, and of-gold flowed thy circular lake all-its-days; with golden foliage bloomed likewise the olive shoot, and the deep-rolling Inopus was overflowing with gold.
[H4] Then thou tookest the boy, thyself, from the golden soil, placedst him in thy bosom, and spakest thus: “O mighty earth, with-many-an-altar, many-a-city, thou that bearest much, ye fertile lands, and ye isles, that dwell around, I am myself barren as ye see me, yet from me shall Apollo be called Delian, nor shall any other land be so much beloved by other god; not Cerchnis by Poseidon, lord of Lechæum, nor the mountain of Cyllene by Hermes, nor Crete by Jove, as I by Apollo; neither shall I be any more roaming.”

So spakest thou. He drew the sweet teat. Thence, nurse of Apollo, art thou called from that day forth even holiest of isles, nor doth Enyo, nor Hades, nor the steeds of Mars tread thee; but ever every year to thee are sent tithes and first-fruits, and all cities, which have placed their settlements eastward, and westward, and toward the south, lead up choirs to thee; and they who have their dwellings beyond the northern shore, a very ancient stock. Who however first of all offer to thee wheat straw, and holy sheaves of ears of corn, which the Pelasgi from Dodona receive far-earliest, as they come out from a far land, the Pelasgi sleeping-on-the-earth, servants of the vase that is never silent. Next come they to the holy city, and mountains of the Melian land; and thence they sail across to the fruitful Lelantian soil of the Abantes: nor is the passage any longer far from Eubœa: since thine harbours are neighbouring.
[H4] These to thee from the yellow Arimaspians, Upis, and Loxo, and Hecaerge of-happy-days, daughters of Boreas, were the first to bring, with the males, who at that time were best among the youths: neither did these last come back home: but they were made blessed, and never are they without the meed of glory. For in truth the Delian women, when the tuneful nuptial-song scares the wonted-haunts of maidens, to the virgins offer as first-fruits their coeval locks, whilst the youths bring as their first-fruit the first harvest of their downy chin.

Thee, fragrant Asterie, the islands circle around and about, and as it were encompass thee with a choir, while thou art neither silent nor without-vocal-sounds; but Hesper with-his-crisp-locks ever looks down on thee celebrated-by-song. Some sing-to-the-dancing the hymn of the Lycian old man, which Olen, the seer, brought thee from Xanthus; whilst others, maidens, in-the-choral-dance, beat with their foot the firm earth. Then truly also is the sacred image far-high renowned of ancient Cypris weighed down with garlands, whom Theseus of old set up, when he was sailing from Crete, along with the youths, who, when they had escaped the savage bellowing of Pasiphae’s brute son, and the intricate seat of the winding labyrinth, danced a cyclic measure around thine altar, O revered goddess, whilst the harping roused the dance; and Theseus led the choir. Thence the sons of Cecrops send to Phœbus the ever-living rites of the sacred-ship, the tackle of that vessel.

O Asterie of many altars, many suppliants, what sailor, trading in the Ægean, passeth thee by in his fleet ship? No gales so strong breathe on his bark, no urgency speeds his sailing with utmost haste, to prevent him: but quick-they furl the sails, and do not go back again before that they have whirled round thine altar lacerated with stripes, and have bitten the holy trunk of the olive, with their hands tied behind them; which the Delian nymph invented as sports and food-for-laughter to the young Apollo. O hearth of isles, of-happy-home, hail to thyself: and hail Apollo too, and she whom Latona bare.

### An Elegy on the Bath of Pallas

[H5] As many of you as pour-water-for-the-bath of Pallas, come forth, maidens all, come forth. Already have I heard the sacred steeds neighing; and the goddess moves-on ready-equipped: haste then, hasten, ye auburn-haired Pelasgian maids. Never has Minerva bathed her divine arms before that she has dispersed the dust from the flanks of her coursers: not even, I say, when she came carrying all her armour bespattered with gore from the impious giants. But, far before all else, she loosed from the chariot her horses’ necks, and bathed in the springs of Ocean the drops of sweat: and from their bit-champing mouths cleansed all the foam that had clotted there.
[H5] O come forth, Achæan nymphs, and bring not unguents, nor caskets; (I hear the sound of the wheels under the axles:) bring not unguents, ye bath-preparers, nor caskets for Pallas, for Minerva loves not mixed ointments, no, nor mirror. Her eye is ever beautiful: not even when the Phrygian was deciding the strife at Ida did the Great Goddess gaze either into the prepared-brass, or the transparent eddies of Simois: neither did Juno: but Venus, having taken up a radiant brass-mirror, ofttimes twice altered-the-position of the same lock: while Pallas having driven-over one hundred and twenty double courses, like the Lacedæmonian stars beside the Eurotas, skilfully took and bruised smooth ointments, products of her own tree. Ye maidens, but the blushes rushed-up, with hue such as the morning rose or pomegranate’s kernel has. Wherefore now also bring ye only the strong oil, in which Castor, in which also Hercules, anoints himself. Bring out too her comb all-of-gold, that she may comb her hair when she has anointed her sleek curl.
[H5] Come forth, Minerva: a welcome troop is present to thee, the maidens, daughters of the great Acestoridæ. O Athena, there is carried also Diomed’s shield, since this is the elder custom of the Argives, which Eumedes, a priest acceptable to thee, instituted: who of yore, when he had learned that the people was making ready death decreed against him, fled away with thy sacred image, and went and dwelt in the Mount Creon: the Mount Creon, and placed thee, O goddess, on the broken rocks, of which the name is now Pallatides. Come forth, Athena, city-sacking, golden-helmed, delighting in the noise of steeds and shields. To-day, ye water-carriers, dip not your vessels, to-day Argos drinks from springs, and not from the rivers. To-day, ye handmaids, bring your urns either to Physadea, or to Amymone, daughter of Danaus; for truly, having mingled his waters with gold and flowers, Inachus will come from the mountains rich-in pasture, bringing for Athena her beauteous bath. But thou, O Pelasgian, beware lest even against thy will thou behold the queen. Whoso shall have seen Pallas, the city’s-guardian, naked, this Argos shall behold him now for the last time.
[H5] O Lady Minerva, come thou forth: and meanwhile I will utter something to these maidens. Yet the speech is not mine, but that of others. Ye daughters, in Thebes of old, Athena loved one Nymph exceeding-well, yea and beyond the rest, the mother of Tiresias, and never was she without her, but both when she was driving her steeds toward the ancient Thespieans, or toward Coronea, where was her incense-perfumed grove, and where her altars lay on the river Curalius, or toward Coronea, or to Haliartus, crossing over the cultivated lands of the Bœotians; ofttimes the goddess made her to mount her own chariot. Neither were the sweet converse of the Nymphs, nor the choral dances pleasant to her, where Chariclo did not lead them. Yet still even her many tears were awaiting, though she was the favourite companion to Athena. For once-on-a-time, having unloosed the clasps of their robes, they twain were bathing in fair-flowing Heliconian Hippocrene: and noon-tide calm was holding the mountain. They both were bathing, and ’twas the hour of noon; and much stillness was pervading that spot. But Tiresias still alone with his dogs, with his chin just now darkening, was roaming up and down the holy spot: and thirsting unspeakably he came to a stream of the fountain, wretched youth that he was, and without wishing it beheld what was not lawful for him to see. Then wroth though she was nevertheless Athena addressed him, “What deity, O son of Everus, hath led thee, that shalt never more bear hence thine eye-sight on an evil journey?” She spake, and night fell-upon the eyes of the youth. Speechless he stood, for sorrows glued his knees, and helplessness withheld his voice. But the Nymph shrieked out, “What, awful goddess, hast thou done to my son? Are ye goddesses friends such as this? Thou hast taken away the eyesight of my son. O accursed child, thou sawest the bosom and limbs of Athena; but never again wilt thou behold the sun; ah, wretched me! O mountain, O Helicon no more to-be-approached by me. Surely thou hast gained a great triumph instead of a small: Thou hast lost a few antelopes and roes, thou hast gotten the eyes of my boy.” She spake: and having clasped her dear son round with both arms the mother, deeply weeping, set-up the fate of plaintive nightingales. Then the goddess pitied her companion, and Athena addressed these words to her. “O noble woman, reverse again all things as many as you have spoken through anger: for not I indeed made thy son blind: for ’tis not pleasant to Athena to steal the eyes of boys; but thus the laws of Cronus decree,—That whoso shall have beheld any of the immortals, when the divinity himself shall not choose, this same should behold with a heavy penalty. O noble lady, this act cannot be again recalled, since thus the threads of the fates approved, when first you had given birth to him: now then endure, O son of Everus, the debt which is owed to thee. How many burnt-offerings will the daughter of Cadmus burn hereafter, and how many Aristæus, praying to behold their only son, the youthful Actæon, blind, and nothing more! He, too, shall be companion-in-the-chase of mighty Artemis: yet not his running nor his far-dartings in common with her among the mountains shall save him then. When, though not wishing it, he shall have beheld the graceful bath of the goddess: but then the very hounds shall banquet on their former lord. And his mother shall gather the bones of her son, going through all the glades. She will say that thou hast been most fortunate and of happy-days, since thou, O my companion, hast received thy son blind only from the mountains: wherefore do not wail at all: for this man many other privileges await at my hands for thy sake. For I will make him a prophet to-be-sung-of by posterity, in a degree of-a-truth far exceeding the rest. And he shall understand birds, which is favourable and which fly in vain, and of what sort the flight is unfavourable. Many oracles shall he utter to the Bœotians, many to Cadmus, and in after time to the mighty descendants-of-Labdacus. I will give him, too, a great staff, which shall guide his feet serviceably, and I will give him a far-distant end of his life. He alone, after death, shall go to and fro among the shades, being wise-and-prudent, held in honour by the great Pluto.”
[H5] Thus having said, she bowed to confirm her words; and that is ratified, to which Pallas has bowed assent: since to Athena alone of his daughters has Jove granted this, to enjoy all her sire’s attributes. Ye attendants of the bath, no mother bare the goddess, but Jove’s head; and that is confirmed to which Jove’s head shall have assented: in like manner that to which his daughter shall have done so. Now assuredly comes Athena. But do ye, O maidens, as many as care for Argos, welcome the goddess, both with good omens, and with prayers, and with acclamations. Hail, goddess, and care for Inachian Argos. Hail also when thou art about to drive forth, and again drive thy steeds to the city, and guard-safely all the inheritance of Danaus.

### Hymn to the Basket of Ceres, or Demeter

[H6] As the basket descends, ye women, join in acclamation: all hail, Demeter, that-feedest-many, of many-measures. The basket as it descends (close the door of your lips, ye profane) gaze upon, neither from the house-roof, nor from an eminence, neither boy, nor woman, nor she who has suffered her hair to flow unbound, neither when fasting we spit from parched mouths. Hesperus is wont to behold it when he comes forth from the clouds, Hesperus, who alone persuaded Demeter to drink, when she was following after the undiscovered track of her ravished child. Lady goddess, how did thy feet sustain to bear thee both to the west, and even to the black (Africans), and to where are the golden apples. Thou didst not drink, no, nor eat nor wash thyself during that time. Thrice didst thou cross in truth silver-eddying Achelous, and as many times pass-over each of the ever-flowing rivers, and thrice didst thou run to Henna, the navel of a most beauteous isle, and thrice didst thou seat thyself on the ground beside the spring Callichorus, athirst and without drinking; and thou didst not eat nor wash thyself. Nay, let us not speak of these things, which brought tears to Ceres: better, how she gave to cities pleasing laws; better, how she was the first to cut off wheat straw and handfuls of ears, and introduced oxen to tread out the corn, when Triptolemus was being taught a good art. Better, to see how (that so every one may escape transgressions) she made the son of Triopas pitiable by hunger. Not yet were the Pelasgians inhabiting the Cnidian land, but as yet sacred Dotium; but to thyself had raised a beautiful enclosure, thickly-grown with trees; scarce would an arrow have penetrated it. In it was the pine, in it tall elms, and pear-trees also, and beautiful sweet-apples, whilst the water, like as amber, was bursting forth from springs, and the goddess was as fond of the spot as Eleusis, and as Triopus, and Enna. But when their propitious deity was wroth with the Triopidæ, then worse counsel took hold of Erysichthon. He hastened forth with twenty servants, all in their prime, all giant-men, (they would be sufficient to lift a whole city,) having armed them in both respects with hatchets and axes. So they rushed without-shame into the grove of Ceres.
[H6] Now there was a poplar, a large tree, reaching to heaven, and under it the Nymphs were-wont-to-disport-themselves in the noontide; which stricken first, sounded an evil melody for the rest. Demeter became-aware that her sacred grove is in trouble, and said in her anger, “Who is hewing down my beautiful trees?”
[H6] Forthwith she likened herself to Nicippe, whom the state had appointed as her public priestess, and she grasped in her hand the fillets, and poppies, and kept her key on her shoulders. Then said she, soothing the bad and shameless man, “My son, who fellest the trees which are consecrated to gods, stay, my son, child much-loved by thy parents, forbear: and turn away thy servants, lest anywise our Lady Demeter be wroth with thee, Demeter, whose holy precinct thou art pillaging.”
[H6] At her then looking-askance more fiercely than a lioness with-savage-brood (whose eye men say is of all most terrible) eyes a man on the Tmarian mountains, he said, “Give way, lest I fasten this great axe in thy flesh. These trees thou shalt behold my well-roofed house, wherein I shall ever and anon hold pleasant banquets to my heart’s content with my companions.” So spake the youth, and Nemesis recorded the wicked speech.
[H6] Demeter was wrath in an unspeakable degree; and she became the goddess. Her steps indeed trod the ground, but her head touched Olympus. Then were they half-dead I wot, when they had seen the awful goddess, and on a sudden rushed away, having left the axe among the oaks. The rest she let alone, (for by constraint they followed beneath their lord’s hand,) but she replied to the king that-vexed-her, “So, so build thy hall, thou dog, thou dog, wherein thou mayest hold banquets: for frequent festivals shalt thou have hereafter.” Thus much she spake, and proceeded to work evil for Erysichthon. Forthwith upon him she sent a grievous fierce hunger, burning and violent; and he began to be famished by a severe disease. Wretched man that he was, as much as he happened to eat, for so much more again did a craving seize him. Twenty were wont to make ready his banquet, twelve to pour out wine: for so many acts incense Dionysus as incense Demeter likewise. For along with Demeter Dionysus had been enraged. Neither to clubs nor to social banquets could his parents send him for shame, but every pretext was devised to excuse him. The Ormenidæ had come to invite him to the games in-honour-of Itonian Minerva: his mother then said that he could not come. “He is not within, for yesterday he has gone to Cranon, to demand back a debt of a hundred oxen.” Polyxo, Actorion’s mother, came, for she was making ready her son’s nuptials, inviting both Triopas and his son. But with grieving heart the woman answered, as-she-shed-tears, “Triopas will come at your bidding, but a boar hath smitten Erysichthon in the sweet glades of Pindus, and he is lying ill now for nine days.” Wretched mother, fond of thy son, what falsehood then didst thou not utter! Was any one preparing feasts? Erysichthon was abroad. Was one marrying a wife? “A quoit has struck Erysichthon, or he has fallen from his chariot, or he is numbering the flocks on Othrys.” But within-the-inner-chambers, then for-whole-days-long the feaster was devouring ten-thousand viands of every kind, but his insatiate stomach was-in-commotion while he kept eating more continually: and all the meats kept flowing down idly thankless, as it were into the deep of the sea. Even as snow on Mimas, as a wax-doll in the sun, and yet more than these he was wasting, until on the nerves of the wretched man fibres and bones alone were left. Weeping was his mother, deeply wailing were his two sisters, and the nurse by whom he was suckled, and the ten handmaids oftentimes. Yea, and often would Triopas himself lay hands on his hoary hair, thus calling on Neptune, who did not heed him; “O falsely named father, behold this the third from thee, that is, if I indeed am son of thee and Æolian Canace; and from me is born this wretched offspring.
[H6] “For would that mine hands had duly buried him stricken by Apollo: but now baneful famine is seated in his eyes. Either remove thou from him his sore disorder, or thyself take and maintain him: for my tables have fallen-short. Reft are my folds, and my stalls now void of beasts: and at length my cooks have declined the task. Nay more, they have unyoked the mules from the great wains, and he ate the heifer which his mother was feeding for Vesta, and the prize-gaining steed and war-horse, and the cat, which lesser animals dread.”
[H6] As long as matters rested in the house of Triopas, so long the household apartments, I wot, alone were aware of the misfortune. But when his teeth were beginning to consume-and-exhaust the plenteously-supplied house, then it was that the king’s son sate in the cross-roads, begging for morsels, and cast-away refuse of feasts. O Demeter, may he be no friend to me who is hated by you, neither may he be under-a-common-roof: evil-neighbours are hateful to me. Sing, ye virgins, and, ye mothers, join the acclaim: all-hail, Demeter, many-nurturing, of-many-measures. And as the four white-maned steeds carry the basket, so shall the great goddess, wide-ruling, come bringing to us fair spring, fair summer, winter, and autumn, and shall keep them for us to another year. And as without sandals, and without fillets, we tread the city, so shall we have our feet, and our heads, all-unharmed. As the basket-bearers carry baskets full of gold, so we shall possess gold in abundance.
[H6] ’Tis meet that the uninitiated women should attend these mysteries as far as the Prytaneum of the city: whosoever are under sixty years, as far as the goddess’s temple; but those who are weighed down by age, and she who stretches out hands to Ilithyia, and whoso is in pain, ’tis enough that they follow as far as their knees are able: and to them Ceres will give everything in full-abundance, and that they may come to her temple. Hail goddess, and preserve this city in harmony, and in prosperity; and bring all things home ripe from the fields. Feed our cattle: support our fruit-trees: bring forth the ear, produce the harvest: nurse also peace, that he who has sowed, that same may reap. Be propitious at my bidding, O thou thrice-prayed for, widely-ruling among goddesses.

### Epigrams

[E.1] A stranger from Atarneus inquired thus of Pittacus the Mitylenæan, the son of Hyrrhadius. “Aged sire, a double union invites me: the one bride in truth is my match both in wealth and birth; but the other is my superior: which is best? Come now, counsel me, which am I to lead to Hymen?” So said he: but the other, having lifted his staff, an old man’s instrument, spake thus: “Lo, these will tell thee the whole word (for the boys I wot, engaged with tops swift under the influence of strokes, were spinning them in the broad cross-road). Go,” said he, “in the track of these.” He then presented himself near: the boys were saying, “Spin the one that is suited to you.” Hearing these words, the stranger forbore to win the greater family, and took heed to the omen of the boys. As he then led home to his house the lowly bride, so do thou, O Dion, marry the one that is suited to you.
[E.2] One told of your fate, Heraclitus, and brought me to tears; for I called to mind how often we twain made the sun go down on our conversation; yet thou art, I suppose, O Halicarnassian friend, long, long ago, dust. But there still live thy strains, on which Hades, spoiler of all, shall not lay his hand.
[E.III] Here dwell I Timon the man-hater: but pass on; bid me woes as many as you will, only pass on.
[E.3] Bid me not hail, bad heart, but pass on. Thy-not-laughing is equal joy to me.
[E.4] O Timon, since you are no more, which is hateful to you, light or shade? Shade, for there are most of ye in the shades.
[E.5] A mussel-shell was I of yore, O Zephyritis, but thou, Venus, possessest me now, a first present of Selenæa, the nautilus who was wont to sail on the seas, spreading a sail, if there were winds, from mine own forecables; but if there were a calm, bright goddess, ably rowing with my feet: my name corresponds with the act. But I was cast up on the shores of Iulis, that so I might become thy precious toy, Arsinoe; and that not any longer for me in her nests as aforetime, (for I am lifeless,) should the egg of the rain-loving Halcyon be hatched. Give thanks however to the daughter of Clinias, for she knows how to perform good deeds, and is from Smyrna in Æolia.
[E.6] I am the work of the Samian, who of old received Homer in his home. And I lament the sufferings of Eurytus and auburn Iole. But I am styled the writing of Homer. Kind Jove, this is a great honour for Creophylus.
[E.VII] A lad was crowning his step-dame’s monument, a great stone, deeming that even as her life, so her nature had been changed. But it, inclining over her tomb, fell and slew the boy. Ye step-sons, flee even the tomb of a step-mother.
[E.7] Theætetus went on a clear path. What though ’tis not this way that leads to thine ivy, O Bacchus, yet heralds will declare for a brief space the name of others, but Greece for ever the wisdom of that man.
[E.8] Of-a-short nature, O Dionysus, is the speech for the poet when successful: the longest word he says is “I’m victor.” But should any one ask him, on whom thou shalt not have breathed propitiously, “What luck?” he says, “the result was hard.” Be such words his, who meditates injustice; but be mine, O king, that lucky brevity.
[E.9] Here sleeps Saon, of Acanthus, son of Dicon, a holy sleep: say not that the good die.
[E.10] If you should seek for Timarchus in the shades, that you may inquire either somewhat of the soul, or how it shall be hereafter, seek for the son of his sire Pausanias, of the tribe Ptolemais: and you will find him in the haunts of the pious.
[E.11] Short was the stranger, as also his tomb. I will not speak at length. Beneath me is Theris, son of Aristæus, a Cretan: ’tis a long epitaph.
[E.12] If you shall have come to Cyzicus, small trouble is it to find Hippacus and Didyme, for their race is nowise obscure. And you shall tell them a sad tale, yet still tell this, that I hold their son Critias.
[E.13] A. Doth Charidas rest beneath thee? B. If you mean the son of Arimnas the Cyrenæan, he rests beneath me. A. O Charidas, what are the things below? B. Vast darkness. A. And what the returns to earth? B. A lie. A. And Pluto? B. A fable, we have perished utterly. This is my true speech to you: but if you want the pleasant style of speech, the Pellæan’s great ox is in the shades.
[E.14] But who well knows the morrow’s fate, when thee too, Charmis, that wast yesterday in our sight, on the next day we wept and buried? Nought sadder than that hath Diophon his father beheld.
[E.15] But who art thou, Timonoe? By the gods, I had not known thee, but that on the grave-stone was the name of thy sire, Timotheus, and Methymna, thy native city. With great grief truly I think thy widowed husband Euthymenes sorrows.
[E.16] The daughters of the Samians oft regret Crethis the witty, who was apt at sporting gracefully, a most pleasant fellow-worker, ever talkative; but she soundly-sleeps here the sleep that is due to all.
[E.17] Would there had never been swift ships: for then we should not lament for Sopolis, son of Dioclides. But now he drifts a corse somewhere in the sea, and in his stead we pass-by a name and a cenotaph.
[E.18] Naxian Lycus died not on land, but in the deep beheld his ship and life perishing at-the-same-time, when he was sailing, a merchant, from Ægina. And he indeed is a corse in the sea. But I, a tomb bearing only his name, proclaim this word of-perfect-truth. “Shun intercourse with the sea, O sailor, at the setting of the Kids.”
[E.19] Here Philip set-up-a-memorial of his son, twelve years old, Nicoteles, his great hope.
[E.20] At dawn we were burying Menalippus, and at sun-set the maiden Basilo died, by her own hand. For she had not the heart to live, when she had placed her brother in the flame. So the house of their sire Aristippus saw a double woe: and all Cyrene was downcast, when it saw the house of persons happy-in-their-children bereaved.
[E.21] Whoe’er you are that bear your step past my tomb, know that I am the son and sire of Callimachus the Cyrenæan. Now you may know them both. The one of yore commanded the armies of his country: the other sang strains too surpassing for envy. And small blame! for as many as the Muses look upon in youth with eyes not askance, they do not abandon as friends when grey-headed.
[E.22] A nymph carried off from the mountain the Cretan son-of-Astacus, the goatherd. And now the son-of-Astacus is sacred. No more beneath the Dictæan oaks, no more shall we shepherds sing of Daphnis: but the son-of-Astacus for evermore.
[E.23] Cleombrotus, the Ambraciot, said, “Sun, farewell,” then leaped from a high wall into Orcus; not that he had discovered any ill worthy of death, but because he had read one writing of Plato, that on the soul.
[E.24] A hero, I am set before the door of Eetion, of Amphipolis, a little hero at a small vestibule, bearing a snake looking-askance and a sword only. But being enraged at a horseman, he has placed me also near himself on-foot.
[E.25] To Ionis Callignotus sware, that never would he hold friend or mistress dearer than her. He sware. But ’tis truly said that oaths made in love enter not the ears of the immortals. For now he burns with the flame truly of another, whilst of the lorn maiden, as of the Megarians, there is neither care nor account.
[E.XXVII] Aforetime I was Calliste, but my after-name was Thera, mother of our equestrian country.
[E.26] From small means I had a slight subsistence, neither doing aught ill, nor wronging any one. O dear earth, if I, Micilus, have commended aught that is bad, neither do thou lie light on me, nor ye other gods, who hold me.
[E.27] Both song and style are Hesiod’s: the poet of Soli has copied not the last of minstrels, but I suspect that he has copied the sweetest of verses. Hail, fine sayings, born with the watchings of Aratus.
[E.28] I hate the cyclic poem, nor do I rejoice in the road that leads many this way, or that. I hate too a roaming lover, neither drink I from the spring. I loathe all things that are common. Lysanias, thou at least art verily beautiful, beautiful; yet before I have said this, an echo says, another hath him.
[E.29] Pour in, and say again, “to Diocles:” nor is water conscious of his sacred cups. Fair is the boy, O Achelous, passing fair! And if any one says nay, may I alone be aware of his beauties.
[E.30] Wretched, wretched Thessalian Cleonichus, I know not, I know not thee, no, by the piercing sun. Unhappy one, where hast thou been? Bones and hair alone remain to thee any longer. Doth then my fate possess thee, and hast thou chanced upon a harsh destiny. I know, Euxitheus hath stolen thee; and thou, as thou passedst by, sawest that handsome one with both thine eyes.
[E.31] The hunter, O Epicydes, hunts for every hare on the mountains, and the tracks of every antelope, being acquainted with hoar-frost and snow. But should any one say, Lo, here is a wild beast stricken; he does not take it. Even such is my love. It is versed in pursuing what flies from it, but flits past what lies in its mid path.
[E.32] I know that my hands are void of wealth: but, O Menippus, tell not, I pray thee by the Graces, my daily dream to me. My head is pained continually, as I hear this most bitter saying: yes! and from thee, my friend, this is most unkind.
[E.33] O Artemis, to thee Phileratis set-up this statue here: then do thou, Our Lady, accept it, and preserve her.
[E.34] To thee, O thou clad-in-the-lion’s-skin, slayer-of-the-boar, he offered a shoot of the beech-tree. Who? Archinus. Of-what-country? The Cretan. I accept it.
[E.35] Past the tomb of Callimachus thou bendest thy steps, a poet well skilled in the song, and in joining-in-mirth seasonably over wine.
[E.36] The deep drinker of wine, Erasixenus, the cup of neat liquor drunk-off twice in succession carried off.
[E.37] The Lyctian Menætas offered these bows, and said thus much besides, “Take, I give thee, Sarapis, the bow and quiver: but the arrows the Hesperitæ have.”
[E.38] Roaming Simone gave as her offerings to Aphrodite an image of herself, and the zone which used to protect her bosom.
[E.39] To Demeter before the gates, to whom Acrisius of the Pelasgians caused this shrine to be built, and to her daughter beneath the earth, Timodemus of Naucratis set up these gifts, the tithes of his gains; for thus had he vowed.
[E.40] To an old priestess of Demeter having died happily. In tetrameter hendecasyllabics.
Of old I was a priestess of Demeter, and again of the Cabiri, O man, and afterwards of Dindymene I became the old priestess, (who now am dust,) in-authority over many young women. And to me two male children were born, and in their arms I closed-mine-eyes in-happy-old-age. Go on thy way rejoicing.
[E.41] That which still breathes, is but half my life; but the other half I know not whether Eros or Orcus hath snatched-away; but gone-it-is. I wonder if it hath gone again to one of the youths? And yet I often bade them not, saying, Receive not the fugitive, young ones. Is it not even gone to Cephisus, for I know that that death-deserving and passionately-loving maiden attaches-herself somewhere there.
[E.42] If indeed, O Archinus, I have wilfully gone a-rioting, blame me ten-thousand times: but if I am come against-my-will, consider my hastiness. Strong-drink and love compelled me, of which, one of them kept dragging me, the other would not let me keep a sober mind. But when I had come, I marked not who or whose, but I kissed the neck: if this is a wrong deed, I am a wrong-doer.
[E.43] The stranger was wounded without our knowledge: thou sawest how sad a breath he drew through his breast. Lo, he was drinking the third time, and the roses shedding their leaves were poured all on the ground from the man’s chaplet. Doubtless he has been seriously inflamed; no, by the gods, I do not guess without reason, but being a thief, I have learnt the traces of a thief.
[E.44] There is, yes by Pan, something hidden, there is, by Bacchus, some fire beneath these ashes. I have no confidence: prythee embrace me not. Ofttimes a river, though it be silent, eats imperceptibly through the wall. Wherefore now too I fear, Menexenus, lest this stealthy-gilder, insinuating himself, should throw me into love.
[E.XLVII] When I beheld the beautiful Archestratus, I said that he was not beautiful, no, by Hermes, for he did not seem exceedingly so. I spake, Nemesis seized me, and straightway I lay in the flames: Jove was wholly directing his lightnings against me. Shall I propitiate the boy, or the goddess? Nay, the boy is more precious to me than the goddess. Good bye to Nemesis.
[E.45] Thou wilt be caught, roving Menecrates, said I on the twentieth of July, and of August—on the—what?—the tenth day the ox came of-his-own-will under the plough. Bravo, bravo, my Mercury! I do not find-fault along-of the twenty days.
[E.46] Whilst Polyphemus found his incantation good, so long the Cyclops neglected his sheep, and counted them not. The Muses, Philippus, waste love away. Surely wisdom is a medicine healing all. This good, methinks, even famine has, and only this, in addition to its ills. It cuts off the disorder of love. Yes, and I have even both in abundance against love. This, boy, little boy, clips thy wings. Not even the least crumb do I fear thee; for both the charms against the severe wound are at my home.
[E.L] Often truly in the choruses of the tribe Acamantis the Dionysiac hours shouted loud on account of the ivy-bearing dithyrambs, and with chaplets and choicest roses overshadowed the sleek locks of skilful poets, who dedicated this tripod as their witness of Bacchic prizes; those men Antigenes instructed. But well did Ariston, the Argive, nurse a sweet voice, pouring into simple Doric pipes a tuneful breath: of whose honey-voiced choir Struthon’s son, Hipponicus, was leader, borne in the chariots of the Graces. Who gave him famous name and splendid victory among men, by-the-power-of the Muses, goddesses with violet wreaths.
[E.47] This salt-cellar, from which eating plain salt, he had escaped great storms of debt, Eudemus dedicated to the Samothracian gods, saying that he had this set up here according to his vow, ye peoples, because he had been saved from the brine.
[E.48] For quickness-in-learning, Simus, son of Miccus, prayed, presenting me to the Muses. And they, like Glaucus, gave a great gift instead of a small. But I am set over against this double letter of the Samian, gaping, I the tragic Bacchus, as hearer of boys. While they say, Holy is the lock, telling me my daily dream.
[E.49] Tell, stranger, that I, Pamphilus, am set up as a witness, truly comic, of the victory of Agoranax the Rhodian, and not burnt by love. But half of me is seen like to a dried fig and the lanterns of Isis.
[E.50] Miccus used to take care of Phrygian Æschra, a good nurse even in her lifetime with all comforts, and, when she was dead, set up her statue, for posterity to see, how the old woman receives-in-full the thanks for her breasts.
[E.51] To Berenice, wife of Ptolemy.
The Graces are four. For in addition to those famous three one more has been fashioned at some recent period, and is still moist with unguents. Blessed in all things is very-enviable Berenice, without whom not even the Graces themselves are Graces.
[E.52] The beautifully swarthy Theocritus, if indeed he hates me, you would hate four times as much: if he loves me, you would love him. Yea! by fair-tressed Ganymede, O heavenly Jove, thou too wast once in love. I will not speak more at length.
[E.53] Come even again, Ilithyia, at the invocation of Lycænis, helping her thus in childbirth with easy-deliverance from throes. So shall it be to thee now, O queen, for a girl: but for a boy, hereafter thy fragrant temple will hold somewhat else.
[E.54] Thou knowest that thou hast, O Æsculapius, the debt which Aceson vowed and owed for his wife Demodice. But should it escape thee, and thou demand payment, the tablet declares that she will preserve her chastity.
[E.55] Callistium, daughter of Critias, dedicated me, a lamp rich with twenty lamp-nozzles, to the god of Canopus, having vowed me for his son Apellis. But looking upon my lights you will say, “Hesperus, how hast thou fallen.”
[E.56] Evenetus, who set me-up, says (for I know nought of it) that I am suspended in requital for his private victory, a brazen cock to the Tyndaridæ. I trust the son of distinguished Philoxenides.
[E.57] In the temple of Inachian Isis, Æschylis, daughter of Thales, placed me up, by the promise of her mother Irene.
[E.58] What stranger art thou, shipwrecked mariner? Leontichus found me here a corse on the shores, and buried me in this tomb, whilst he wept for his own fateful life: for not even doth he spend a quiet life, but traverses the seas, like divers.
[E.59] Blest was Argive Orestes, because, though mad in other respects, he was not afflicted with the madness of men mad-with-love. Nor did he make the trial of the Phocian, which tests his friend, but exhibited even one drama alone. Sure quickly would he have lost even his friend, had he done this: and I no longer have many Pyladæ.
[E.60] All ye, who journey past the sepulchre of Cimon of Elis, know that ye pass the son of Hippæus.
[E.61] Alas, alas! for thou too art thus, Menecrates! Thou wast not for long. What hath made an end of thee, O best of hosts. Why surely what killed the Centaur: which came to me as my fated slumber, but the wretched wine forms the pretext.
[E.LXVI] The race of Neptune and of Jove trained their youth in contests of sturdy wrestling. And their contest is proposed not for a brazen ewer, but who shall carry away life or death. The fall was that of Antæus: but ’tis fitting that Jove’s son, Hercules, should conquer. Wrestling is peculiar to Argives, not Libyans.
[E.LXVII] Thou there, that seekest to burn even fire itself, that desirest to light up by night thy beautiful lamp, come hither and kindle a flame from my soul. For within me burning, it sends forth a vast blaze.
[E.LXVIII] Bravest of beasts am I, of mortals he, whom I now guard, as I stand on this stone tomb. But unless Leon had had the heart, I wot, as he had the name of lion, I would not have set my feet on this tomb.
[E.LXIX] The three-years-old Astyanax while sporting round about a well, a mute image of a form drew in to itself. And from the water the mother snatched her drenched boy, examining whether he had any portion of life. But the infant did not defile the Nymphs, for, hushed on the lap of his mother, he sleeps his deep sleep.
[E.LXX] Worn out with age and poverty, and no man outstretching a contribution for misfortune, I have come into my tomb by degrees with my trembling limbs. With difficulty have I found the goal of a troublous life. And in my case the custom of the dead hath been changed. For I did not die first, and then was buried; but was buried, and then died.
[E.LXXI] The old woman Nico crowned the sepulchre of the maiden Melite. O Orcus, hast thou decided this aright?
[E.LXXII] Wherefore, O Venus, unable-to-endure battle-dins, hast thou had Mars assigned to thee? Who was the coiner-of-the falsehood? Foolishly did he fasten-on-thee hateful arms? For to thee loves are delightful, and the joys of the couch, and the women-maddening sounds of castanets. But to divine Tritonis leave these bloody spears: and go thou to beautiful-tressed Hymen.
[E.62] Wild beasts of Cynthus, be of good-courage. For the bow and arrows of Cretan Echemmas are laid up in Ortygia with Artemis, the arrows wherewith he desolates the vast mountain: but now he has ceased, ye she-goats, since the goddess has effected a truce with him.
[E.63] So mayest thou sleep, Conopium, as thou makest me to serenade at this cold vestibule. So mayest thou sleep, most wicked one, as thou puttest thy lover to sleep: and thou hast chanced upon pity not even in a dream. Neighbours pity: but thou not even in a dream: but thy gray hair will soon remind thee of all these things.