 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
AKERATOS.
To Argos, after Troia fell, there came,
Seeking for alms and ease, one sunny day,
A soldier, battle-scarred and old and grey—
Akeratos his name.
Seeking for alms and ease, one sunny day,
A soldier, battle-scarred and old and grey—
Akeratos his name.
He would not beg without amends for alms:
So with a lyre the passers-by he stopped,
Hoping thereby to see some silver dropped
From givers' willing palms.
So with a lyre the passers-by he stopped,
Hoping thereby to see some silver dropped
From givers' willing palms.
In early days his skill was well maintained;
But rough campaigns had robbed him of his power;
And so he stood there twanging, hour on hour,
Without one lepton gained.
But rough campaigns had robbed him of his power;
And so he stood there twanging, hour on hour,
Without one lepton gained.
192
At length, all wearied, hungered and athirst,
He ceased and leaned against a pillar there,
And thought himself, so utter his despair,
Forsaken and accurst.
He ceased and leaned against a pillar there,
And thought himself, so utter his despair,
Forsaken and accurst.
Then came a stranger where he leaned, and said,
“Why not play on, old man, and strive to please
The passing crowd? You, who won victories,
Might now perchance win bread.”
“Why not play on, old man, and strive to please
The passing crowd? You, who won victories,
Might now perchance win bread.”
Akeratos looked up. His eyes were filled
With weakling tears; again he bowed his head—
That once proud soldier—and he humbly said,
“I am no longer skilled.”
With weakling tears; again he bowed his head—
That once proud soldier—and he humbly said,
“I am no longer skilled.”
“Then,” said the stranger, in a pleasant way,
“Why not to me a thing so usless hire?
Here's a didrachmon: give me now the lyre:
For one hour let me play.”
“Why not to me a thing so usless hire?
Here's a didrachmon: give me now the lyre:
For one hour let me play.”
The soldier smiled. “My lord,” he said, “the sum
Would buy three lyres like this of mine, mayhap.”
“It is a bargain, then. Hold out your cap;
Be motionless and dumb.”
Would buy three lyres like this of mine, mayhap.”
“It is a bargain, then. Hold out your cap;
Be motionless and dumb.”
The stranger took the lyre and swept the chords,
And through the air a startling prelude rang;
Then with a clear and stirring voice he sang—
Voice like the clang of swords—
And through the air a startling prelude rang;
Then with a clear and stirring voice he sang—
Voice like the clang of swords—
How Hektor perished, slain by Achilleus;
How Herakles fair Hippolute slew;
How Zeus the mighty Titans overthrew—
The sire-dethroning Zeus;
How Herakles fair Hippolute slew;
How Zeus the mighty Titans overthrew—
The sire-dethroning Zeus;
193
The rush of chariots and the clash of blades;
O'er beaten earth the ring of iron hoofs;
The crackling roar of flames from burning roofs;
The screams of frighted maids;
O'er beaten earth the ring of iron hoofs;
The crackling roar of flames from burning roofs;
The screams of frighted maids;
The curses of the priests of plundered fanes;
The dying groan upon the bloody field
Of some stout warrior, pillowed on his shield,
Life ebbing through his veins.
The dying groan upon the bloody field
Of some stout warrior, pillowed on his shield,
Life ebbing through his veins.
And as he sang the people stopped to hear,
And crowds from every quarter gathered round,
Breathless and eager, swallowing every sound
With rapt, attentive ear;
And crowds from every quarter gathered round,
Breathless and eager, swallowing every sound
With rapt, attentive ear;
And when the song was o'er the people filled
The soldier's cap with golden coins, and cried,
“O singer! silver-tongued and fiery-eyed,
Whose tones our souls have thrilled—
The soldier's cap with golden coins, and cried,
“O singer! silver-tongued and fiery-eyed,
Whose tones our souls have thrilled—
“Singer, whose voice from sirens on the shore
Has sure been borrowed, and whose fingers rain
Such music on the strings, oh, sing again—
Sing us a song once more!”
Has sure been borrowed, and whose fingers rain
Such music on the strings, oh, sing again—
Sing us a song once more!”
And once again that wondrous voice was heard:
This time it sang not of affairs of arms,
But of the sea-foam's daughter and her charms,
Till all men's hearts were stirred.
This time it sang not of affairs of arms,
But of the sea-foam's daughter and her charms,
Till all men's hearts were stirred.
A purple vapor seemed to fill the place;
Fragrance and light and music in the air—
Each man majestic and each woman fair—
One, dignity; one, grace;
Fragrance and light and music in the air—
Each man majestic and each woman fair—
One, dignity; one, grace;
194
Till, in their joy, before that soldier old
Not coins alone they cast, but silvery bands
And rings and bracelets, gems from foreign lands,
And ornaments of gold;
Not coins alone they cast, but silvery bands
And rings and bracelets, gems from foreign lands,
And ornaments of gold;
And when the heap had to its utmost grown,
Making the soldier rich in all men's sight,
Around the singer's form a blaze of light
In dazzling glory shone.
Making the soldier rich in all men's sight,
Around the singer's form a blaze of light
In dazzling glory shone.
The men of Argos stood in hushed surprise,
As there the god of poetry and song,
Phoibos Apollon, from the awe-struck throng. ...
Ascended to the skies.
As there the god of poetry and song,
Phoibos Apollon, from the awe-struck throng. ...
Ascended to the skies.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |