Arion

Arion was the lord of Song,
     The cithera lived within his hand;
All souls delighted to him throng,
     And glad receives him every land.
          Now fraught with golden stores
          He sails from Tarent’s shores.
Home-bound to Hellas’ blooming strand.

Strong yearning drew him to his friends,
     Warm love the duke of Corinth gave,
Ere forth & fare abroad he wends
     His thus fraternal promptings crave;
          “Within my portals, still,
          Abide thou with good-will
Many can lose again who save!”

“A wandering life” Arion said
     “Contents the liberal poet-breast;
The art in me a God has bred
     I, else, of many thousands blest
          How this well-wooing gift
          Shall yet my strength uplift,
Joyous, of wide renown possessed!”

The second morn on ship he fared
     The breathing skies are mild and warm;
“O, Periander, idle cares!
     Forget them now within my arm;
          With gifts, in their abodes,
          We’ll thank the opulent Gods,
??? gladden in the festive swarm.”

Benignant still are wind and sea,
     And gloom afar no tiny cloud;
Not to the waves too much hath he,—
     To men too much,0 his first allowed.
          The whispering crew he hears
          Whose greed his treasure cheers,
But clamorous, soon, they sound him round.

“Arion, thou no more shall live;
     Desirest thou on the land a grave,
Here than to death thyself must give
     Or cast thee don into the wave.”
          “Me will ye so destroy?
          MY gold ye may enjoy.
Gladly I’ll but the life ye save.”

“Nay, nay we let thee not go free,
     Thou wert a head too perilous;
With Periander where stood we
     Shouldst thou betray we robbed thee thus?
          Thy gold can naught avail,
          When home again to sail
Fear never more gives leave to us.

:Then grant me yet a single prayer,
     Since pledge of ransom ye deny;
With practice of the cithera player,
     As I have lived, that I may die;
          When I my song have sung
          And every chord out-rung,
Then from the light of life to fly.”

No shame to these the prayer can bring,
     So bent on gain this dark intents
And yet to hear such songster sing
     That can allure the savage senses.
          “And would ye listnen, mate,
          Let me exchange this suit,
Adorned ?? ?? calls me hence.”

The youth involves his beautiful limbs
     In gold and purple wonderous fair
Till on his feet all downward swims
     A graceful robe with foldings rare;
          Bracelets the arms to deck,
          Round forehead, cheeks, and neck,
How odorous the wreathed hair

The left hand holds the cithera rare,
     Fast to the ivory clings the right;
Revived he seems to drink the air,—
     He flashes in the morning light!
          The crew astonished see;
          Forth to the sail strode he
And in the blue mere fixed his sight:

“Bride of my Voice! Come, Harp!” he sang;
     Me to the death realm follow thou;
What though the hell dogs fury rang
     Even he to music’s power doth bow.
          Elysian heroes dead,
          Over the dark stream fled,
Ye Soothed, I greet ye even now!

But can ye loose me from my woe?
     I leave behind my bosom-mate;
To find Eurydice thou didn’t go,
     But Hades hides thy sweeter fate.
          These dreams like melts away
          What won for thee thy lay,
The sun-gleam thou dost imprecate.

I must go down, I will not fear
     The Gods look on us from their height.”
That ye have slain me helpless, here
     Blanch hoodless, where I sink from sight!
          Nereids, your guest demands
          Deliverance at your hands!”
Then spray he in the deep sea, light.

At once the waves went over him,
     Right on the seamen sail, how ??
Drawn after them the dolphins in swim
     As if enticed by magic lure.
          Ere floods choke out his breath
          One curves his back beneath,
And bears him to the port, secure.

“And can I thee reward? Farewell,
     Thou friendly Dolphin, true & tried;
Thou canst but here, I yonder, dwell
     To us is fellowship denied.
          Thee on the liquid plain
          Shall Galatea give rein;
Her, sacred, shalt thou draw in pride.”

Now speeds Arion lightly hence
     As once he roved in strange domains
Gleam on him Corinth’s battlements
     He wanders singing through the plains
          Reborn with love & glee
          His loss forgetteth he
Alone the friend – the lyre – remains.

In strode he: “From life-wandering spent,
     Now Friend, I ?? upon thy breast.
The art to me a God hath lent
     It is of many thousands blest.
          ‘Tis true false ribbons rold
          The well-won gift of gold
Yet am I of renown possessed.”

Then spoke he of things marvelous
     That Periander heard, astound;
“Shall they by robbery prosper thus?”
     I had in vain my power-first round
          The felons to reveal
          Thee must thou here conceal,
So reckless will they come homebound.

And when in gaven the crew appeared
     He bade them to his side repair
“Aught have ye from Arion heard?
     For his return I sign with care.”
          “Behind in Tarent’s land
          We left him, luck in hand.”
Ha see! in strides Arion there!

Enveloped are his beautiful limbs
     In gold and purple wonderous fair,
Till o’er his feet all downward swims
     A graceful robe with foldings rare
          Bracelets the arms bedeck
          Round forehead, cheeks & neck,
Flows odorous the wreathed hair.

In his left hand the cithera sweet,
     Fast to the ivory holds the right
Perforce they grovel at his feet,
     It smites them like the leven-light.
          “we would have shed his blood;
          He is become a God!
Would earth but swallow us from sight.”

“The lord of song lives yet, through all;
     The minstrel stands in holier care.
No spirit of revenge I call
     Your life-blood will Arion spare.
          To Barbary, far, may ye
          The slaves of Avarice — flee
Nor beauty soothe your spirits there!”