Μναμα τοδε κλεινοιο. κ. τ. λ.
Within this tomb is famed Megistias laid.
He bravely fell beneath the Persian's blade,
Where old Sperchius rolls his waters clear.
Although his death was known unto the seer,
To leave his Spartan chief he would not deign,
But, bravely fighting, 'mid the foe was slain.
The Greeks delighted to frame epitaphs for their most distinguished
men, especially for their poets. Those in honor of Homer are almost
innumerable. Anacreon has more than a dozen, and other favorites in
proportion. We will give a specimen of these compositions in the
following beautiful lines by Simmias the Theban, on Sophocles:
Ηρεμ' ὑπερ τυμβοιο Σοφοκλεος, ηρεμα, κισσε,
Ἑρπυζοις, χλοερους εκπροχεων πλοκαμους,
Και πεταλον παντη θαλλοι ῥοδου, ἡ τε φιλορρωξ
Αμπελος, ὑγρα περιξ κληματα χευαμενη,
Ἑινεκεν ευμαθιης πινυτοφρονος, ἡν ὁ μελιχρος
Ησκησεν, Μουσων αμμιγα και Χαριτων.
O verdant ivy! round the honored tomb
Of Sophocles, thy branches gently twine;
There let the rose expand her vernal bloom
Amid the clasping tendrils of the vine;
For he, with skill unrivalled, struck the lyre,
Amid the Graces, and the Aonian choir.
Not less beautiful were the inscriptions affixed to fountains,
rustic statues, baths, and the hundred other little evidences of
cultivated taste so frequent in Greece. With such a people, it must
have afforded double pleasure to a wearied traveller on approaching
a fountain, sparkling in its basin of rocks, to find over it an
invitation to repose from some one of the first epigrammatists of
antiquity; as, for instance, this one of Anyte:
Ξειν', ὑπο ταν πετραν τετρυμενα γυι' αναπαυσον·
Ἁδυ τοι εν χλωροις πνευμα θροει πεταλοις.
Πιδακα τ' εκ παγας ψυχρον πιε· δη γαρ ὁδιταις
Αμπαυμ' εν θερμω καυματι τουτο φιλον.
Weary stranger, sink to rest,
'Neath this rock's o'erhanging crest.
Where the trees their branches fling
Breezes soft are whispering.
Freely drink these waters cold,
Welling from yon fountain old.
While the sun thus fiery glows,
Travellers here should seek repose.
These compositions being so limited as to their subject, bear of
course much similarity to each other. We will, however, give two or
three specimens in as different styles as we can select.
Here is one by Leonidas of Tarentum, on a brook, too much frequented
by the flocks to be acceptable to the traveller:
Μη συ γ' επ' οιονομοιο περιπλεον ιλυος ὡδε
Τουτο χαραδραιης θερμον, ὁδιτα', πιης·
Αλλα μολων μαλα τυτθον ὑπερ δαμαληβοτον ακραν,
Κεισε γε παρ' κεινα ποιμενια πιτυι,
Ἑυρησεις κελαρυζον ευκρηνου δια πετρης
Ναμα, Βορειαιης ψυχροτερον νιφαδος.
O, traveller! taste not of this muddy fount,
In which the weary flock and herds recline,
For farther on, upon yon verdant mount,
And 'neath the branches of a lofty pine,
From out a rock a sparkling fountain flows
With waters colder than the Northern snows.
And, again, here are a few lines, by the fair Anyte, simple indeed,
but graceful and pleasing:
Ἱζευ ἁπας ὑπο τασδε δαφνας. κ. τ. λ.
Recline beneath this laurel's verdure sweet,
And taste the waters of this crystal spring;
Here rest thy limbs, unnerved by summer's heat,
Refreshed, the while, by zephyr's whispering.
And yet another, by an author whose name has been forgotten:
Ερχεο και κατ εμαν. κ. τ. λ.
Come, wearied traveller, here recline
Beneath this dark o'erarching pine,
Whose waving sprays, with sighing sweet,
Joy the passing winds to greet.
List to the soft and silvery sound,
My falling waters scatter round.
Its murmur, low reëchoing,
Repose to thee will quickly bring.
The whole has an air of quiet yet musical repose that makes us
almost fancy we hear the plashing of the falling waters.
There is also a pretty little inscription, somewhat Anacreontic, by
Marianus the Scholiast, on a warm spring.
Ταδ' ὑπο τας ρλατανους. κ. τ. λ.
Once Love within these shades was sleeping,
And gave his torch to the Naïads' keeping.
'Aha!' cried they, 'we'll quench its glow
Within our fountain's icy flow,
And, when its cruel fires cease,
The heart of man shall beat in peace.'
They plunged it in, but, all untamed,
The wondrous torch still brightly flamed,
And now these lovely nymphs must pour
A heated spring to yonder shore.
And here, in the compass of four lines, has Paul the Silentiary
given a better eulogy to his sea-side garden than could be
comprehended in a whole volume of modern descriptive poetry. He
allows the imagination to wander at will among objects of its own
creating, and to depict for itself the scene which he would not
describe:
Ενθαδ' εριδμαινουσι, τινος πλεον επλετο χωρος,
Νυμφαι, Νηιαδες, Νηρεις, Αδρυαδες·
Ταις δε θεμιστευει μεσατη Χαρις, ουδε δικαζειν
Οιδεν, επει ξυνιν τερψιν ὁ χωρος εχει.
Here Dryads, Nymphs, and Nereids contend,
Which, to this spot, its chief attraction lend;
Beauty, in vain, their difference would accord,
Each to the scene such equal charms afford.
We will now give an inscription of Theocritus, in dedicating an
humble rustic altar to Apollo:
Τα δροσοεντα τα ῥοδα. κ. τ. λ.
This bushy thyme and dewy roses
Are sacred to the immortal maids
Who dwell where Hippocrene discloses
Her fount, 'mid Heliconian shades.
But, Pythian Apollo! thou
Hast laurel with its dark green leaves,
For Delphi's rock, to grace thy brow,
Of it, to thee, a tribute gives.
Then on this altar, will I lay
A tender kid, with budding horns,
Who crops the lowest waving spray,
Which yonder lofty pine adorns.
And here are a few simple and pretty lines, inscribed by Anyte on a
statue of Venus by the sea-shore:
Κυπριδος ὁυτος ὁ χωρος. κ. τ. λ.
This spot is Aphrodite's, and around
The gentle waves subdue their whitening crests,
Approaching it from ocean's farthest bound
To give a friendly welcome to the guests
Who tempt their bosom: while the neighboring sea
Gazes upon that statue reverently.
When the Greeks or Romans laid aside their arms, they would
frequently dedicate them to some deity, and suspend them in his
temple, with an appropriate inscription. Thus, Horace:
Nunc arma defunctumque bello
Barbiton hic paries habebit
Lævum marinæ qui veneris latus
Custodit.
And when any offering of this kind was made to one of the
innumerable gods of the Greeks, it appears to have been accompanied
by a few dedicatory lines. There is, of course, great sameness in
such compositions, and, in fact, they generally consist merely of an
enumeration of the articles offered, and the name of the devotee,
but we will select two or three on different subjects.
Here is one, by Simonides, on a spear dedicated to Jupiter:
Ὁυτω τοι, μελια ταναα, ποτι κιονα μακρον
Ἡσω, Πανομφαιω Ζηνι μενους' ἱερα·
Ηδη γαρ χαλκος τε γερων, αυτη τε τετρυσαι
Πυκνα κραδαινομενα δηιω εν Πολεμω.
Or thus,
This trusty ashen spear we 'll hang above;
'Tis sacred now to Panomphœan Jove.
The arm is old which once its terrors tossed,
And sent it quivering through the serried host.
The following inscription is said to be by Plato. It was affixed to
a mirror which the celebrated Laïs, in her old age, dedicated to
Venus:
Ἡ σοβαρον γελασασα. κ. τ. λ.
I, Laïs, who, in Beauty's chain,
Held Greece a captive, and for whom
So many lovers sighed in vain,
Enchanted by my youthful bloom;
Subdued by age, this mirror true,
Cythera! thus I give to thee;
For what I _am_ I will not view.
And what I _was_, I ne'er can be.
When a Grecian maiden arrived at womanhood, it was usual for her
to dedicate some toy of her childhood to Venus, in token of her
having abandoned her youthful occupations and amusements. Here is an
inscription, by Callimachus, designed for an occasion of this kind.
It is both graceful and elegant, yet is deficient in the simplicity
which is the usual charm of these compositions among the Greeks. It
is addressed to Venus Zephyritis:
Κογχος εγω Ζεφυριτι. κ. τ. λ.
O Zephyritis! I am but a shell,
First gift of Selenæa unto thee.
Her nautilus, who once could sail so well
O'er the unquiet bosom of the sea.
Then, if 't were ploughed by gentle, favoring gales,
On my own ropes I spread my mimic sails,
And, if 't were calm, I used my feet as oars
And swiftly rowed--from which I bear my name.
But I was cast upon the sandy shores
Of fair lülis, and from there I came,
To be a graceful ornament to thee,
Here in thy fane, O fair Arsinoë!
Now sad Alcyone will lay no more,
Within her ocean-nest her eggs for me,
For I am lifeless. Queen of this bright shore
Let Clinias's daughter hence receive from thee
Thy choicest gifts. She dwells beyond the main
Where Smyrna towers o'er th' Æolian plain.
It would scarcely be fair to conclude this little notice of some of
the smaller gems of Greek poetry, without glancing at those intended
to be satirical or witty. Of these we can find but few remaining,
and what are thus preserved cannot induce us to regret much the loss
of those which have been destroyed. They do not seem to show a taste
as refined and delicate as is exhibited by the other productions of
the Grecian muse, and, indeed, are usually very poor. Two or three
specimens will suffice.
Doctors and lawyers, as at present, were favorite butts for the
shafts of the epigrammatists. The following mock-epitaph is intended
as a cut at the former. The author is unknown:
Ουτ' εκλυσεν Φειδων. κ. τ. λ.
'Twas not with drugs that Phidon killed me;
He came not even near my side:
But, while raging fevers thrilled me,
I chanced to _think_ of him--and died!
And here is an epitaph,
'A precious, tender-hearted scroll
Of pure Simonides,'
intended, no doubt, for the grave of an enemy:
Πολλα φαγων, και πολλα πιων. κ. τ. λ
Here lies Timocreon, the Rhodian; he
Loved slander, drunkenness, and gluttony.
This is certainly pithy.
* * * * *
Stepmothers, in those days, would seem to have been just as bad as
at present, when they have become a very proverb. Here is a kind of
epitaph by Callimachus, containing a hit at them which certainly has
no very great merit:
Στηλην μητρυιης. κ. τ. λ.
On his step-mother's tomb, this youth piously placed
Some flowers, that it might be properly graced.
For he thought, as this life had abandoned her view,
That her vices, no doubt, had abandoned her too.
But, while he was thus standing close to the tomb,
It fell, and it crushed him, Oh! terrible doom!
Then youths! let this warning sink deep in your breasts,
Shun each step-mother, e'en when in Oreus she rests.
These are ample, as specimens of Grecian wit, which, as here
exhibited, is certainly of no very refined or exalted description.
In taking a general and comprehensive glance over Greek Epitaphs
and Inscriptions, we see that they are usually characterized by
deep feeling, expressed concisely, and with the utmost simplicity.
We rarely find any catches, any evident striving after effect,
and, in consequence, to an ear not accustomed to them, they may
frequently seem meagre, and even bald. But, by studying them, a
meaning seems to grow out of the very words; and the more that we
examine them, and the oftener that we read them, the more we find
them expressive of 'thoughts that lie too deep for words,' thoughts
which can be expressed but darkly, and which, concealed in this garb
of simplicity, must be passed over by those who are not content to
pause and ponder. Whether the pleasure derived from this be worth
the labor that must be spent over them, even though it be a labor of
love, is a question which each must answer for himself, according to
his own tastes. If they lead him to it, he will have discovered an
almost inexhaustible source of pure and elevated gratification; if
not
----'frustra laborum
Ingratum trahit.'
_Philadelphia, June, 1843._
HENRY C. LEA.