Classic Poem

SONG OF THE PHoeNICIAN EMIGRANTS

Sing to the praise of our gods,
Sing unto Baal and Ashtaroth —
Baal whose mighty right hand
Hurls the red hurtling thunderbolts;
Ashtaroth, kindler of hope,
Queen of the heaven of holiness.
Give us your aid in our need,
Guard us, preserve us, go forth with us!

Infinite God of the Sea,
Leasher of wild-roaring hurricanes,
Send us the favoring gale,
Tame the wild billow untamable!
Home-cities where we were born,
Rich and abounding in palaces,
Fair with palm-shaded fanes
Gazing down from your citadels,
Sidon and Tyre, farewell!

We, the young and adventurous,
Girt with the sword and the sling,
Raising the purple-dyed canvas high,
Bound on the venturous quest —
Cities to found on Trinacria.
Men of our blood and our faith
Often have sailed to Britannia,
Out on the wide ocean stream.

Tin from Cornwall they brought with them,
Filling their ship with the ore;
On their return what a jubilee!
We have a different task.
Baal, O Baal, we pray to thee,
Give us thine aid in our quest!

SONG OF THE IONIAN EXILES SAPPHICS

T HIN was the soil our mountain-vale offered,
Sloping down sharply where the sea-margin
Curved in and out with numberless islets
Smiling in sunshine.

Here lived our fathers, peaceful and happy;
Here stood the temples carved of white marble,
Facing the sea, the azure Ægean,
Home of Poseidon.

Room has grown scanty, forth we must wander,
Seeking new lands where cities may flourish,
Building new shrines for Zeus, Aphrodite,
Pallas, Apollo.

Farewell, Ionia, marble-rich homeland!
We from Sikelia, gazing with homesick
Hearts, full of longing, oft will remember
All the old legends.

We will remember streamlet and mountain,
Unto the new land bear the old place-names,
Build us like temples, white-marble-columned,
Carve us like statues.

Farewell, Ionia! Farewell, Olympos,
Snow-glittering peak, the seat of the Immortals!
Farewell, O Helicon, fount of the Muses!
Farewell, Parnassos!

Gods of our fathers, favor our passage
Over the blue main, treacherous-smiling!
Grant us your favor, hoary Poseidon!
Hear us, Apollo!

When on Sikelia's beckoning mainland
First we set foot, erecting an altar,
Zeus, unto thee, and Hera thy consort,
Worship we'll render.

SONG OF THE ROMAN EXILES

M AN the lofty galley,
Push away from shore;
Ave atque vale,
Rome, forevermore!

Down the yellow Tiber,
Leaving the Seven Hills,
In us every fiber
At the parting thrills.

Nevermore the Forum
Shall our eyes behold.
O templa deorum,
Worshipped here of old,

Jupiter, fire-flinger,
Venus, Paphian queen,
Juno, the child-bringer,
Minerva, stern of mien,

Mercury, the soarer,
Fierce heart-stirrer Mars,
Neptune, tempest-pourer.
Gods that rule the stars,

Throned in temples glorious,
Heed our parting prayer,
Make our arms victorious
Wheresoe'er we fare!

Far Cimmerian stretches,
On the Euxine shore,
Roamed by gaunt, starved wretches,
Call us to explore.

There we mean to settle,
In those fertile lands,
Proving our keen mettle,
Winning by our hands

What the Scythian rangers
Have no sense to prize,
We not baulked by dangers,
We not half their size!

Our Penates guard us
On uncharted seas,
Where in vain had barred us
Dark Symplegades!

Thence the good ship Argo
Bore the Golden Fleece;
Richer be our cargo
Ere our fighting cease!

With the Roman valor,
That never met disgrace,
Paint a deathly pallor
On each foeman's face!

Our imperial story
Shall our children tell:
Rome, renowned in glory,
Hail and thrice farewell!

SONG OF THE VARIAG LEADER

F ORTH from the Northland,
Frozen and silent,
Where the long winter
Wraps us in darkness,
Save when the witch-fires
Of the Aurora
Dance neath the zenith,
Or the pale moonbeams
Silver the forest,

Come, my companions,
Seek we new countries
Over the ocean.
Follow the sunset
Trailing its splendors
Down the horizon,
Crimson and gold.
Thor, the high Thunderer,
Odin and Freya,
Heed our libations!

We have traditions
Ancestor-ancient
That happy islands,
Fragrant and fertile,
Copious in cattle,
Wait for our coming.
There we may battle,
There we may conquer.

But if we perish,
Valiantly fighting,
May the Valkyrior
Take on the tempest
Back to Valhalla,
Joyous, our souls!

THE PILGRIMS

A N equal, yea a better bravery,
A lofty heaven-supported constancy
Did those old Pilgrim-Englishmen display
Ere they had safely passed
Across the ocean vast;
And while they lived through all the perils of the deep,
The miseries of the leaking craft,
Where they could keep
No moment dry or warm, where sleep
At best could only waft
Their spirits in bright dreams away
From all the wretchedness that smote them night and day.
No friendly face was there to welcome them.
There stood the forest: what might lurk
Behind each tree's majestic stem,
Within the twilight-murk —
Savage barbarians ready to discharge
Keen flinty arrows as they ventured on the marge!
" A hidious and desolate wilderness "
Full of wild beasts and wilder men,
And winter coming to add to their distress,
And all chance gone to see the dear old home again!
They all faced death (how many had to die!),
And yet with courage high
With one accord they fell upon their knees and blessed the Lord:

HYMN OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS

G REAT God of Heaven, thy name we praise!
Thou'st led us through the ocean ways,
As Israel's hosts from Egypt's king
Safe through the desert thou didst bring.

The days seemed lengthened into years,
Yet thou hast treasured up our tears.
Thou heardst our prayers; thy mighty hand
Has brought us to the Promised Land!

Here on this shore we consecrate
The first beginning of our state.
Thou art our only God; thy name
Is writ upon our hearts in flame!

Our children's children shall observe
Thy holy laws, nor from them swerve,
And evermore their souls shall bless
The beauty of thy righteousness!

Great God on high, stretch forth thine arm
To shield thy servants from all harm;
As thou hast sworn in days of yore,
Grant us thy peace, our strength restore!

Thou'st looked on our adversity,
Thou heardest when we cried to thee;
Thy word is good, thy love secure,
Thy mercies ever shall endure.

EULOGIUM

V ERILY we, the descendants of Pilgrims (the first come or later),
Well might " pause half-amased " seeing " that poore people's " plight.
They in their poverty dire, their homesickness, praised their Creator;
Ready to die for a cause, ready for justice to fight,
We their descendants by blood, or who claim their race by adoption.
Monuments raise to their fame, take them as patterns of worth —
Those poor disconsolate Pilgrims, seeking harsh exile by option,
Thus winning death and a name, ranking the princes of earth.