Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn :: :: University of Virginia Library

Why do you ask, bold Tydeus' son,
Why do you ask, what race am I?
As forest-leaves have come and gone,
So does the race of mankind hie:
The wind outblows, and straightway strows
The scattered leaves upon the ground;
But soon the wood blooms green in bud,
When again the spring-tide hours come round.

II

Such, and no more, the race of man;
One flowers, and another fades apace.
But if you truly wish to scan
How runs the lineage of our race,
What many know I straight will show:
Within a nook of Argos land,
The land which breeds such gallant steeds,
Doth Ephyra's ancient city stand.

III

And there dwelt Sisyphus, the son
Of Œolus, the tempest lord

192

And through all the earth a wilier one
Could not the sons of men afford.
To Glaucus his heir, did his lady bear
The gallant youth, Bellerophon,
To whom high Heaven had fine form given,
And strength in kindly valor shown.

IV

But Prœtus, in his evil soul,
Felt toward him foul and felon thought
(And under King Prœtus' stern control
Had Jove the men of Argos brought),
His queenly dame of lofty name
Had felt sharp passion's fiercest sting,
And to his breast, with love unblest,
Desired in stolen joy to cling.

V

But wise, and all averse to wrong,
He would not with her wish comply.
Then spoke she with a traitorous tongue
Her husband in a ready lie:
“Do slaughter on Bellerophón,
Or let thyself, O Prœtus! die,
Because he strove with shameless love
Within my arms by force to lie.”

VI

She spoke: and when the king had heard,
All through his soul fierce anger flew;
To slay his youthful guest he feared.
Much scrupling such a deed to do,

193

By his command to Lycian land
The unsuspecting youth was sent.
But many a mark of import dark
He bore off with him as he went.

VII

In tablets of the closest fold,
Prœtus' life-killing mandates lay—
There was his lady's father told
Bellerophón at once to slay.
But heavenly led to Lycia sped,
My favored grandsire on his way;
And when he came to Xanthus' stream,
Much honor did its monarch pay.

VIII

Nine days they held the constant feast,
Nine oxen for the board they slew;
When on the tenth day in the East,
Blushed forth the dawn of rosy hue,
The king addressed his honored guest,
And spoke his wish that should be shown
With what intent there had been sent
To Lycian land Bellerophón.

194

IX

Now when the message met his eye—
And Prœtus' felt intent he knew—
He sent him, and one doomed to die,
The dire Chimæra to subdue.
From heavenly seed, not human breed,
That yet unconquered monster came.
Dreadful, I ween, her throat was seen
Fierce breathing forth the fiery flame.

X

In head a lion, in the tail
A dragon, and a goat in loin;
Yet did his valor there prevail,
Upheld by portents all divine.
And next his glaive the Solymi brave
Did with their blood in battle wet:
Oft did he say such desperate fray
As theirs in fight he never met.

XI

Thirdly, he smote with mortal scar
The Amazons who warred on man;
And back returning from that war
'Gainst him a plot the Lycians plan.
Through Lycia wide, the flower and pride
Of all her warriors have they ta'en,
And with them laid an ambuscade;
But not a man returned again.

XII

They perished by his hand subdued;
And then, as Lycia's king knew well

195

That he was born of godlike blood,
He kept him in the land to dwell.
His daughter as bride he gave, and, beside,
Shared with him half his reign;
And of land which there is most rich and rare
Was chosen as his domain.

XIII

Fit land the clustering vine to raise,
Fit land to ply the spade;
But even on him in latter days
The wrath of Heaven was laid.
And all alone he wandered on
The Aleian plain apart;
From human path, in wo or wrath,
Devouring his own heart.

XIV

Two sons, one daughter, to his love
Were by his lady given;
Laodamia, lofty Jove,
Whose guidance rules o'er Heaven,
Clasped in his arms, and of her charms
Is brave Sarpedon sprung;
But Artemis' bow soon laid her low,
By fiery anger stung.

XV

Isander against the Solymi
In glorious battle stood;
And Ares doomed him there to die,
The sateless god of blood.

196

The second son as sire I own,
Hippolochus he hight;
And from Lycia far, to the field of war,
Hath he sent me here to fight.

XVI

And much was the counsel my father gave
At Troy to bear me well:
Ever to show myself bold and brave,
And all others to excel;
And not to disgrace the ancient race,
Which still mid the best did shine
Or in Lycia wide, or by Ephyra-side.
Such, Diomede, is my line.