 | Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems |  |
105
TIMASITHEOS.
O for the gift to rise in full degree,
Not like the showy fungus of a night,
But fed with soft delays, a branching tree!
Not like the showy fungus of a night,
But fed with soft delays, a branching tree!
Where now Olympia struggles to the light
All ruin, a sacred city long profaned,
Pausanias found amid the shining flight
All ruin, a sacred city long profaned,
Pausanias found amid the shining flight
Of brilliant statues, all unspecked, unstained,
One hewed about the face, and marred with mire,
Still standing as by right, but deep disdained;
One hewed about the face, and marred with mire,
Still standing as by right, but deep disdained;
And when the curious wanderer would inquire
Whose beauteous antique shape was soiled and shamed,
None there could tell save one white-bearded sire,
Whose beauteous antique shape was soiled and shamed,
None there could tell save one white-bearded sire,
106
Who answered:“This was one who, never tamed,
With his swift thews won race on flashing race,
Lightly: and Timasitheos was he named,
With his swift thews won race on flashing race,
Lightly: and Timasitheos was he named,
“The Delphian, and from Phœbus so much grace
He had, that all the Arcadian world extolled
His manhood and the glory of his face;
He had, that all the Arcadian world extolled
His manhood and the glory of his face;
“And from the lips of Phrynichus out-rolled
Madness of song, praising his brazen feet,
And tight curls closing like the marigold;
Madness of song, praising his brazen feet,
And tight curls closing like the marigold;
“And Argive Ageladas, as was meet,
Master of Pheidias, sculptured him, and set
His statue in the ranks of strong and fleet;
Master of Pheidias, sculptured him, and set
His statue in the ranks of strong and fleet;
“And three times at the Pythian games he met
The athletes in the sinewy lists, and won,
And through the dewy streets and meadows wet
The athletes in the sinewy lists, and won,
And through the dewy streets and meadows wet
107
“Went singing, crowned from the pancration,
To Delphi, in a long procession borne,
And met with songs, his city's dearest son!”
To Delphi, in a long procession borne,
And met with songs, his city's dearest son!”
“Then why,” Pausanias cried, “this mien forlorn,
These injured garments, this dishonoured head,
Of all its light and carven beauty shorn?”
These injured garments, this dishonoured head,
Of all its light and carven beauty shorn?”
To whom the old indifferent grey-beard said:
“'Twas long ago, before my grandsires' days,
And he who knew our history best is dead.
“'Twas long ago, before my grandsires' days,
And he who knew our history best is dead.
“But see this dim and grey inscription says:—
“That ‘Timasitheos, traitor to the state,
Lift up with pride and fallen on godless ways,
“That ‘Timasitheos, traitor to the state,
Lift up with pride and fallen on godless ways,
“‘By his fond physical strength intoxicate,
Plotted with Kylon, and so meanly fell,
Unstable and the prey of envious fate.’”
Plotted with Kylon, and so meanly fell,
Unstable and the prey of envious fate.’”
108
Too soon, too much adored! Ah! much too well
He cleft the winds and left the world behind!
Too fatal all the shapely miracle
He cleft the winds and left the world behind!
Too fatal all the shapely miracle
Of his great limbs in faultless form combined!
Better, ah! better far to have been less swift,
More kindred to the earth, less to the wind!
Better, ah! better far to have been less swift,
More kindred to the earth, less to the wind!
For the gods hate not excellence, but lift
The strong soul slowly on a great endeavour,
And grace their own belovèd, gift by gift,
The strong soul slowly on a great endeavour,
And grace their own belovèd, gift by gift,
And with their sleepless eyes have wit to sever
Man's lawful joy in power from pride of power,
And hover round the loyal soul for ever;
Man's lawful joy in power from pride of power,
And hover round the loyal soul for ever;
But the hot insolent head they hold one hour
High over the ranks of men, then dash it down,
And laugh to see it kiss the dust and cower.
High over the ranks of men, then dash it down,
And laugh to see it kiss the dust and cower.
109
Let others leap straight to the forest-crown!
Slow growth, cool saps and temperate airs for me,
And strength to stand when all the woods are brown.
Slow growth, cool saps and temperate airs for me,
And strength to stand when all the woods are brown.
| Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems | |