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A source-book of ancient history - The Search For Mecca

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144 <strong>The</strong> Poets and the Philosophers<br />

THE ARMORY<br />

This poem<br />

Alcaeus wrote<br />

to encourage<br />

his comrades<br />

in a civil war.<br />

<strong>The</strong> spacious hall in brazen splendor gleams,<br />

And all the house in Ares' honor beams.<br />

<strong>The</strong> helmets ghtter; high upon the wall<br />

<strong>The</strong> nodding plumes <strong>of</strong> snowy horse's hair,<br />

Man's noblest ornaments, wave over all;<br />

And brightly gleaming brazen greaves are there,<br />

Each hanging safe upon its hidden nail,<br />

A sure defence against the arrowy hail.<br />

And many coats <strong>of</strong> mail, and doublets stout,<br />

Breast-plates <strong>of</strong> new-spun linen, hollow shields,<br />

Well-worn and brought from foe-abandoned fields,<br />

And broad Chalcidian swords are stacked about.<br />

Bear well in mind these tools <strong>of</strong> war, they make<br />

Easy and sure the work we undertake.<br />

ALC^US PROPOSES A MORNING SAIL<br />

A newly discovered<br />

fragment<br />

<strong>of</strong><br />

Alcaeus, translated<br />

by<br />

Edmonds,<br />

Classical<br />

Review, xxiii.<br />

72-4.<br />

<strong>The</strong> scene is<br />

a window<br />

opening on a<br />

harbor<br />

in the forenoon<br />

<strong>of</strong> a hot<br />

summer day.<br />

Alcaeus urges<br />

his friend<br />

to come out<br />

for a sail.<br />

<strong>The</strong> friend<br />

is too lazy<br />

to budge.<br />

Mix no more into the great bowl. Why toilest so,<br />

when I tell thee that never will I have thee waste the day<br />

from dawn onward in drunkenness and song? O why do we<br />

forbear to use the sea, suffering the winter-cool freshness<br />

<strong>of</strong> the morn to pass like a drunken sleep?<br />

If we would<br />

but quickly go aboard, and take the rudder in our grasp,<br />

and loose the ship from her moorings, turning the sailyard<br />

to front the breeze, then merrier should we be and light<br />

<strong>of</strong> heart, and 'twould be as good work as a right long<br />

draught <strong>of</strong> wane. But thou, linking one idle hand in another<br />

over thy robe, sayest. As for me, bring myrrh<br />

for my head; for I am little pleased with what this fellow<br />

putteth into song <strong>of</strong> his.<br />

Never think thou troublest my<br />

soul, thou wild clamorer, thou roarest like a great fire.

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