At their full stretch, and shook the floating reins.
Rebounding from the ground, with many a shock,
Flew clattering the firm cars, and creak'd aloud
The naves of the round wheels. They, there-
fore, toiled

Endless; nor conquest yet at any time
Achiev'd they; but a doubtful strife maintain'd.
In the mid course the prize, a tripod huge,
Was plac'd in open sight, insculpt with gold:-
These glorious works had Vulcan artful wrought.

CERBERUS.

A grisly dog

Implacable, holds watch before the gates;
Of guile malicious. Them who enter there,
With tail and bended ears he fawning soothes:
But suffers not that they with backward step
Repass: whoe'er would issue from the gates
Of Pluto strong, and stern Persiphone,
For them, with marking eye, he lurks; on them
Springs from his couch, and pitiless devours.

A BATTLE-PIECE.

Warrior men

Waged battle, grasping weapons in their hands.
Some from their city and their sires repelled
Destruction others hastened to destroy;
And many press'd the plain; but more still held
The combat. On the strong-constructed towers
Stood women shrieking shrill, and tore their
cheeks

|In very life, by Vulcan's glorious craft.
The old men, hoar with age, assembled stood
Without the gates, and to the blessed gods
Their hands uplifted, for their fighting sons
Fear-stricken.

Behind them stood the Fates, of aspect black,
Grim, slaughter-breathing, stern, insatiable,
Their white fangs gnashing, and strange conflict
held

For those who fell;-each fiercely thirsting sought
To drink the sable blood. Whom first they

snatched,

Prostrate, or staggering with the fresh-made

wound,

On him their talons huge they stuck-the soul
Went down the cold abyss.-To th' heart they
glutted

With dead men's gore; behind them cast the corse,
And back, with hurrying rage, they turned to seek
The throng of battle. And hard by there stood
Clotho, and Lachesis, and Atropos.-

They all around one man in savage fight
Were mixed, and on each other turned in wrath
Their glaring eyes and homicidal hands.
Unspeakable that strife! And close beside
Stood the War-Misery, wan and worn with
woe,

Ghastly and withered, and with hunger-pains
Convulsed; her cheeks dropped blood to earth;
-with teeth

All wide disclosed, in grinning agony
She stood;—a cloud of dust her shoulders spread,
And her eyes ran with tears!

CALLINUS.

[About 782 B. C.]

Or this poet we know nothing more than that he was the supposed inventor of the Elegiac Couplet.

A FRAGMENT.

How long will ye slumber? when will ye take

heart,

Death comes not the sooner!-no soldier shall fall Ere his thread is spun out by the sisters above!

And fear the reproach of your neighbours at Once to die is man's doom! rush, rush to the hand?

Fy! comrades, to think ye have peace for your part,
Whilst the sword and the arrow are wasting

our land!

Shame! grasp the shield close! cover well the bold breast!

Aloft raise the spear as ye march on the foe! With no thought of retreat-with no terror confess'd,

Hurl your last dart in dying, or strike your last blow!

Oh! 'tis noble and glorious to fight for our allFor our country-our cldren-the wife of our love!

ARCHILOCHUS.

[About 688 B. C.]

Or a noble family in the isle of Paros, and | struction. His lampoons are lost, and nothing equally famed for his genius and his malignity. remains of him but some few fragments of a Touch me who dare—Apxíñoxov rates—was his grave and philosophic cast. He is celebrated motto, and various stories are told concerning by Horace, as the inventor of the Iambic foot, his obscenities and defamations, by the infliction and by Cicero, as being one of the greatest poets of which, on one occasion, he is said to have that ever lived, and only equalled by Homer, driven Lycambes and his daughter to self-de- | Pindar, and Sophocles.

EQUANIMITY.

Mr soul, my soul, though cureless seem the ills that vex thy rest;

Bear up; subdue the hostile crew,

with right opposing breast.

Take thou thy stand within spear-reach, and if thou win the day,

Boast not; nor, beaten once, at home

with vain repining, stay; But, in misfortune wisely mourn; in joy rejoice with heed, And bear in mind, to all mankind, the measure that's decreed.

ON AN ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.
NOUGHT now can pass belief; in nature's ways
No strange anomaly our wonder raise.

The Olympic father hangs a noon-day night
O'er the sun's disk, and veils its glittering light.
Fear falls on man. Hence miracles, before
Incredible, are counted strange no more.
Stand not amazed, if beasts exchange the wood
With dolphins, and exist amidst the flood;
These the firm land forsake for sounding waves,
And those find pleasure in the mountain caves.

PATIENCE UNDER SUFFERING.

OH, Pericles! in vain the feast is spread:
To mirth and joy the afflicted soul is dead.
The billows of the deep-resounding sea
Burst o'er our heads, and drown our revelry;
Grief swells our veins with pangs unfelt before;
But Jove's high clemency reserves in store
All-suffering patience for his people's cure:
The best of healing balms is—TO ENDURE.

ON THE LOSS OF HIS SHIELD IN A
BATTLE WITH THE SAIANS.

Relictâ non bene parmulâ.

A PAIR OF MILITARY PORTRAITS.
BOAST me not your valiant captain,

strutting fierce with measur'd stride,
Glorying in his well-trimm'd beard, and
wavy ringlets' clustered pride.
Mine be he that's short of stature,

firm of foot, with curved knee; Heart of oak in limb and feature, and of courage bold and free.

THE MIND OF MAN.
THE mind of man is such as Jove
Ordains by his immortal will;
Who moulds it, in the courts above,
His heavenly purpose to fulfil.

THE STORM.

BEHOLD, my Glaucus, how the deep

Heaves, while the sweeping billows howl, And round the promontory-steep

The big black clouds portentous scowl, With thunder fraught, and lightning's glare, While Terror rules, and wild Despair.

FRAGMENT.

LEAVE the gods to order all things:
Often from the gulf of woe
They exalt the poor man grov'ling
In the gloomy shades below.
Often turn again, and prostrate
Lay in dust the loftiest head,
Dooming him through life to wander,
Reft of sense, and wanting bread.

LIFE AND DEATH.

JOVE sits in highest heaven, and opes the springs,
To man, of monstrous and forbidden things.
Death seals the fountains of reward and fame:

THAT shield some Saian decks, which 'gainst Man dies, and leaves no guardian of his name.

my grain

I left-fair, flawless shield!-beside the wood.
Well, let it go! I and my purse remain:
To-morrow's bull-skin may be just as good.

Applause awaits us only while we live,
While we can honour take, and honour give:
Yet, were it base for nan of woman born,
To mock the nake ghost with jests or scorn.

TYRTEUS.

[About 681 B. C.]

TYRTEUS was the son of Archimbrotus, and Pausanias, however, does not call him General, presided over a school of some kind-probably of music and poetry-at Athens. The further tradition concerning him is (as all know,) that the Spartans, being worsted in their war with the Messenians, were directed by the oracle to apply to the Athenians for a general, who, in ridicule, presented them with their lame poet, Tyrtæus.

but Counsellor, (Evμßovλos,) adding, that his exertions were confined to composing the dissensions and rousing the fallen spirits of his new allies. He left three kinds of poems;-first, his Military Elegies;-second, his Eunomia, or political ones; and third, his Embateria or marching songs. Only a few of the first have descended to our times.

COURAGE AND PATRIOTISM.

Unaltering friends still love his hairs of snow,
And rising elders in his presence bow.

Draw the keen blade, and let the battle rage!

Yes, it is sweet in death's first ranks to fall Where our loved country's threatening dangers call!

NE'ER Would I praise that man, nor deign to sing, Would ye, like him, the wond'ring world engage,
First in the race, or strongest at the ring,
Not though he boast a ponderous Cyclop's force,
Or rival Boreas in his rapid course;
Not tho' Aurora might his name adore,
Tho' eastern riches swell his countless store,
Tho' power and splendour to his name belong,
And soft persuasion dwell upon his tongue,
Tho' all but god-like valour, were his own:
My muse is sacred to the brave alone;
Who can look carnage in the face, and go
Against the foremost warriors of the foe.
By heaven high courage to mankind was lent, Shall flash upon him from all honest eyes!
Best attribute of youth, best ornament.

The man whom blood and danger fail to daunt,
Fearless who fights, and ever in the front,
Who bids his comrades barter useless breath
For a proud triumph, or a prouder death,
He is my theme-He only, who can brave
With single force the battle's rolling wave,
Can turn his enemies to flight, and fall
Beloved, lamented, deified by all.

His household gods, his own parental land
High in renown, by him exalted stand;
Alike the heirs and founders of his name
Share his deserts and borrow from his fame
He, pierced in front with many a gaping wound,
Lies, great and glorious, on the bloody ground,
From every eye he draws one general tear,
And a whole nation follows to his bier;
Illustrious youths sigh o'er his early doom,
And late posterity reveres his tomb.
Ne'er shall his memorable virtue die,
Tho' cold in earth, immortal as the sky;
He for his country fought, for her expired:
Oh would all imitate whom all admired!
But if he sleep not with the mighty dead,
And living laurels wreathe his honour'd head,
By old, by young, adored, he gently goes
Down a smooth pathway to his long repose,

But he who flies dishonour'd from his home,
And foully driven in beggary to roam,
His wife and children shrieking in his ears,
His sire with shame abash'd, his mother drown'd
in tears,

-What indignation at his cowardice

How shall he stain, for ever stain his blood,
Rich tho' it flow, descended from the good!
How shall he brand with infamy his brow!
(Fair tho' it was, 'ts fair no longer now :)
-An outcast wanderer through a scoffing world
Till to an ignominous grave he's hurl'd;
Known to all future ages by his shame,
A blot eternal on the rolls of fame!

But let us firmly stand, and scorn to fly,
Save all we love, or with our country die,
Knit in indissoluble files, a band

Of brothers fighting for our native land;
Ne'er let us see the veteran soldier's arm
Than ours more forward, or his heart more
warm;

Let us not leave him in the midst of foes,
Feeble with age, to deal unequal blows;
Or in the van lie slain, with blood besmear'd
His wrinkled forehead and his snowy beard,
Stript of his spoils through many a battle worn.
And gay assumed, that inauspicious morn,
Breathing his soul out bravely at our feet-
Ne'er may our eyes a sight so shameful meet!
But, oh, be ours, while yet our pulse beats high
For gory death, or glorious victory,
Be ours, if not an honourable grave,
Smiles of the fair, and friendships of the brave.
37

D

ALCMAN OR ALCMEON.

[About 680 B. C.]

ALCMAN is said to have been born at Sardis, | him the title of гauxus-the sweet. Nothing and numbered amongst the fathers of lyric poetry. but a few scattered sentences, and disjointed His Parthenia, composed in praise of women, lines-affording the most inadequate materials and sung by chorusses of virgins, were very for any judgment of his merits-have come popular amongst the Spartans, and procured for down to us.

A NATIVE of Himera in Sicily, and contem-ments, are all that have descended to us. He porary with Sappho and Alcæus. It is said that his original name was Tisias, and that he acquired the more expressive one by which he is known, from having first established, and generally arranged the movements of the Chorus, or from having first introduced the episode or stationary union of the two parts or divisions. Whatever may be thought of this (says Mr. Coleridge,) certain it is, that the Strophe, Antistrophe, and Epode of the Chorus, became associated throughout Greece, with the name of Stesichorus. His principal poems were the "Destruction of Troy,"-the "Orestea," the "Rhadine," the "Scylla,"-and the "Geryoneis,"*of which the titles, with a few scattered frag

was the inventor of the fable of "the Horse and the Stag," which has been imitated by Horace and other poets, and which he wrote in order to prevent his countrymen from making an alliance with the tyrant, Phalaris. His poems have been highly extolled by ancient writers, and there are few who will not join in the regret expressed by a modern one for the loss of them. "Utinam profecto (says Lowth,) Stesichorum non invidisset nobis vetustas, cujus gravitatem et magnificentiam omnes prædicant; quem præ cæteris laudat Dionysius quod et argumenta sumeret grandia imprimis et splendide, et in iis tractandis mores et personarum dignitatem egregiè servaret."

FROM THE GERYONEIS."

VOYAGE OF THE SUN.

BUT now the sun, great Hyperion's child,
Embarked again upon his golden chalice,
*The Geryoneis was a poem on the story of the expe-
dition of Hercules against the Spanish monster Geryon,
who lived in Cadiz; in the fragment which remains of it,
is the earlist mention of that ancient mystic legend of the

And westward steered where, far o'er ocean wild, Sleeps the dim Night in solitary valleys, Where dwell his mother and his consort mild, And infant sons, in his sequestered palace; sun's passing over the sea in a golden cup, which was lent to Hercules for his voyage through the Mediterranean, and which has given occasion to more learned criticism, than any other cup, heathen or Christian, glass, metal, or wood, ever fabricated or dreamed of.