Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica
2530 pirates on a well-decked ship—a miserable doom led them on. When
they saw him they made signs to one another and sprang out quickly, and
seizing him straightway, put him on board their ship exultingly; for
they thought him the son of heaven-nurtured kings. They sought to bind
him with rude bonds, but the bonds would not hold him, and the withes
fell far away from his hands and feet: and he sat with a smile in his
dark eyes. Then the helmsman understood all and cried out at once to
his fellows and said:
(ll. 17-24) ‘Madmen! What god is this whom you have taken and bind,
strong that he is? Not even the well-built ship can carry him. Surely
this is either Zeus or Apollo who has the silver bow, or Poseidon, for
he looks not like mortal men but like the gods who dwell on Olympus.
Come, then, let us set him free upon the dark shore at once: do not lay
hands on him, lest he grow angry and stir up dangerous winds and heavy
squalls.’
(ll. 25-31) So said he: but the master chid him with taunting words:
‘Madman, mark the wind and help hoist sail on the ship: catch all the
sheets. As for this fellow we men will see to him: I reckon he is bound
for Egypt or for Cyprus or to the Hyperboreans or further still. But in
the end he will speak out and tell us his friends and all his wealth
and his brothers, now that providence has thrown him in our way.’
(ll. 32-54) When he had said this, he had mast and sail hoisted on the
ship, and the wind filled the sail and the crew hauled taut the sheets
on either side. But soon strange things were seen among them. First of
all sweet, fragrant wine ran streaming throughout all the black ship
and a heavenly smell arose, so that all the seamen were seized with
amazement when they saw it. And all at once a vine spread out both ways
along the top of the sail with many clusters hanging down from it, and
a dark ivy-plant twined about the mast, blossoming with flowers, and
with rich berries growing on it; and all the thole-pins were covered
with garlands. When the pirates saw all this, then at last they bade
the helmsman to put the ship to land. But the god changed into a
dreadful lion there on the ship, in the bows, and roared loudly:
amidships also he showed his wonders and created a shaggy bear which
stood up ravening, while on the forepeak was the lion glaring fiercely
with scowling brows. And so the sailors fled into the stern and crowded
bemused about the right-minded helmsman, until suddenly the lion sprang
upon the master and seized him; and when the sailors saw it they leapt
out overboard one and all into the bright sea, escaping from a
miserable fate, and were changed into dolphins. But on the helmsman
Dionysus had mercy and held him back and made him altogether happy,
saying to him:
(ll. 55-57) ‘Take courage, good...; you have found favour with my
heart. I am loud-crying Dionysus whom Cadmus’ daughter Semele bare of
union with Zeus.’
(ll. 58-59) Hail, child of fair-faced Semele! He who forgets you can in
no wise order sweet song.
VIII. TO ARES
(ll. 1-17) Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-helmed,
doughty in heart, shield-bearer, Saviour of cities, harnessed in
bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the spear, O defence of
Olympus, father of warlike Victory, ally of Themis, stern governor of
the rebellious, leader of righteous men, sceptred King of manliness,
who whirl your fiery sphere among the planets in their sevenfold
courses through the aether wherein your blazing steeds ever bear you
above the third firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of
dauntless youth! Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and
strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter cowardice from
my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of my soul. Restrain also
the keen fury of my heart which provokes me to tread the ways of
blood-curdling strife. Rather, O blessed one, give you me boldness to
abide within the harmless laws of peace, avoiding strife and hatred and
the violent fiends of death.
IX. TO ARTEMIS
(ll. 1-6) Muse, sing of Artemis, sister of the Far-shooter, the virgin
who delights in arrows, who was fostered with Apollo. She waters her
horses from Meles deep in reeds, and swiftly drives her all-golden
chariot through Smyrna to vine-clad Claros where Apollo, god of the
silver bow, sits waiting for the far-shooting goddess who delights in
arrows.
(ll. 7-9) And so hail to you, Artemis, in my song and to all goddesses
as well. Of you first I sing and with you I begin; now that I have
begun with you, I will turn to another song.
X. TO APHRODITE
(ll. 1-3) Of Cytherea, born in Cyprus, I will sing. She gives kindly
gifts to men: smiles are ever on her lovely face, and lovely is the
brightness that plays over it.
(ll. 4-6) Hail, goddess, queen of well-built Salamis and sea-girt
Cyprus; grant me a cheerful song. And now I will remember you and
another song also.
XI. TO ATHENA
(ll. 1-4) Of Pallas Athene, guardian of the city, I begin to sing.
Dread is she, and with Ares she loves deeds of war, the sack of cities
and the shouting and the battle. It is she who saves the people as they
go out to war and come back.
(l. 5) Hail, goddess, and give us good fortune with happiness!
XII. TO HERA
(ll. 1-5) I sing of golden-throned Hera whom Rhea bare. Queen of the
immortals is she, surpassing all in beauty: she is the sister and the
wife of loud-thundering Zeus,—the glorious one whom all the blessed
throughout high Olympus reverence and honour even as Zeus who delights
in thunder.
XIII. TO DEMETER
(ll. 1-2) I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess, of her
and of her daughter lovely Persephone.
(l. 3) Hail, goddess! Keep this city safe, and govern my song.
XIV. TO THE MOTHER OF THE GODS
(ll. 1-5) I prithee, clear-voiced Muse, daughter of mighty Zeus, sing
of the mother of all gods and men. She is well-pleased with the sound
of rattles and of timbrels, with the voice of flutes and the outcry of
wolves and bright-eyed lions, with echoing hills and wooded coombes.
(l. 6) And so hail to you in my song and to all goddesses as well!
XV. TO HERACLES THE LION-HEARTED
(ll. 1-8) I will sing of Heracles, the son of Zeus and much the
mightiest of men on earth. Alcmena bare him in Thebes, the city of
lovely dances, when the dark-clouded Son of Cronos had lain with her.
Once he used to wander over unmeasured tracts of land and sea at the
bidding of King Eurystheus, and himself did many deeds of violence and
endured many; but now he lives happily in the glorious home of snowy
Olympus, and has neat-ankled Hebe for his wife.
(l. 9) Hail, lord, son of Zeus! Give me success and prosperity.
XVI. TO ASCLEPIUS
(ll. 1-4) I begin to sing of Asclepius, son of Apollo and healer of
sicknesses. In the Dotian plain fair Coronis, daughter of King
Phlegyas, bare him, a great joy to men, a soother of cruel pangs.
(l. 5) And so hail to you, lord: in my song I make my prayer to thee!
XVII. TO THE DIOSCURI
(ll. 1-4) Sing, clear-voiced Muse, of Castor and Polydeuces, the
Tyndaridae, who sprang from Olympian Zeus. Beneath the heights of
Taygetus stately Leda bare them, when the dark-clouded Son of Cronos
had privily bent her to his will.
(l. 5) Hail, children of Tyndareus, riders upon swift horses!
XVIII. TO HERMES
(ll. 1-9) I sing of Cyllenian Hermes, the Slayer of Argus, lord of
Cyllene and Arcadia rich in flocks, luck-bringing messenger of the
deathless gods. He was born of Maia, the daughter of Atlas, when she
had made with Zeus,—a shy goddess she. Ever she avoided the throng of
the blessed gods and lived in a shadowy cave, and there the Son of
Cronos used to lie with the rich-tressed nymph at dead of night, while
white-armed Hera lay bound in sweet sleep: and neither deathless god
nor mortal man knew it.
(ll. 10-11) And so hail to you, Son of Zeus and Maia; with you I have
begun: now I will turn to another song!
(l. 12) Hail, Hermes, giver of grace, guide, and giver of good things!
2531
XIX. TO PAN
(ll. 1-26) Muse, tell me about Pan, the dear son of Hermes, with his
goat’s feet and two horns—a lover of merry noise. Through wooded glades
he wanders with dancing nymphs who foot it on some sheer cliff’s edge,
calling upon Pan, the shepherd-god, long-haired, unkempt. He has every
snowy crest and the mountain peaks and rocky crests for his domain;
hither and thither he goes through the close thickets, now lured by
soft streams, and now he presses on amongst towering crags and climbs
up to the highest peak that overlooks the flocks. Often he courses
through the glistening high mountains, and often on the shouldered
hills he speeds along slaying wild beasts, this keen-eyed god. Only at
evening, as he returns from the chase, he sounds his note, playing
sweet and low on his pipes of reed: not even she could excel him in
melody—that bird who in flower-laden spring pouring forth her lament
utters honey-voiced song amid the leaves. At that hour the clear-voiced
nymphs are with him and move with nimble feet, singing by some spring
of dark water, while Echo wails about the mountain-top, and the god on
this side or on that of the choirs, or at times sidling into the midst,
plies it nimbly with his feet. On his back he wears a spotted
lynx-pelt, and he delights in high-pitched songs in a soft meadow where
crocuses and sweet-smelling hyacinths bloom at random in the grass.
(ll. 27-47) They sing of the blessed gods and high Olympus and choose
to tell of such an one as luck-bringing Hermes above the rest, how he
is the swift messenger of all the gods, and how he came to Arcadia, the
land of many springs and mother of flocks, there where his sacred place
is as god of Cyllene. For there, though a god, he used to tend
curly-fleeced sheep in the service of a mortal man, because there fell
on him and waxed strong melting desire to wed the rich-tressed daughter
of Dryops, and there he brought about the merry marriage. And in the
house she bare Hermes a dear son who from his birth was marvellous to
look upon, with goat’s feet and two horns—a noisy, merry-laughing
child. But when the nurse saw his uncouth face and full beard, she was
afraid and sprang up and fled and left the child. Then luck-bringing
Hermes received him and took him in his arms: very glad in his heart
was the god. And he went quickly to the abodes of the deathless gods,
carrying the son wrapped in warm skins of mountain hares, and set him
down beside Zeus and showed him to the rest of the gods. Then all the
immortals were glad in heart and Bacchie Dionysus in especial; and they
called the boy Pan 2532 because he delighted all their hearts.
(ll. 48-49) And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with a song.
And now I will remember you and another song also.
XX. TO HEPHAESTUS
(ll. 1-7) Sing, clear-voiced Muses, of Hephaestus famed for inventions.
With bright-eyed Athene he taught men glorious gifts throughout the
world,—men who before used to dwell in caves in the mountains like wild
beasts. But now that they have learned crafts through Hephaestus the
famed worker, easily they live a peaceful life in their own houses the
whole year round.
(l. 8) Be gracious, Hephaestus, and grant me success and prosperity!
XXI. TO APOLLO
(ll. 1-4) Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the
beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river
Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched
lyre, always sings both first and last.
(l. 5) And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with my song.
XXII. TO POSEIDON
(ll. 1-5) I begin to sing about Poseidon, the great god, mover of the