 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
56
HERODOTUS.
Olympia, with her festal multitude,Beheld thy triumph first, in glad acclaim
Hailing thy nascent dawn of endless fame,
Eldest historian,—while Jove's sacred wood
And vocal statue sounded out thy name,
As gather'd Græcia's all of wise and good
Inscribed upon those modest narratives
The hallowed titles of the classic Nine:
For, sweet simplicity through every line,
With graphic phrase and talent, breathes and lives,—
Truth, tolerance, pow'r, and patience, these are thine:
And let not pedants to thy blame recall
That thy fresh mind such ready credence gives,
For thou art Charity, believing all.
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