Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Asia: Vols. XXI–XXIII. 1876–79.
Ode to Miletos
By Walter Savage Landor (17751864)M
Illuded into love,
Happy and pure was she;
Glorious from her the shore became,
And Helle lifted up her name
To shine eternal o’er the river-sea.
Upon thy bridal-bed,
Star of the swimmer in the lonely night!
Who with unbraided hair
Wipedst a breast so fair,
Bounding with toil, more bounding with delight.
And, ranged before Byzantion’s gates,
Bring to the God of sea the victim due,
Even from the altar raise their eyes,
And drop the chalice with surprise,
And at such grandeur have forgotten you.
And who inspires those sacred lays?
“The founder of the walls ye see.”
What human power could elevate
Those walls, that citadel, that gate?
“Miletos, O my sons! was he.”
Parent of me and mine!
But let not power alone be thy renown,
Nor chiefs of ancient line.
They leave their thoughts below,
And teach us that we most should bless
Those to whom most we owe.
Sink, as a lute’s in rain:
The Gods lend only for an hour
And then call back again
In Truth’s or Virtue’s form,
Descending from the starry throne
Through radiance and through storm,
Afford her audience meet,
Nor Time nor War tread down agen
The traces of her feet.
Protector, guardian, father, of the wise;
Therefor shall thy dominion never end
Till Fame, despoiled of voice and pinion, dies.
Arctinos ran his race,
No wanderer he, alone and blind—
And Melesander was untorn by Thrace.
Rich men who swept aside the royal feast
On child’s or bondman’s breast,
Bidding the wise and aged disappear.
Aspasia! but thy sandal is not worn
To trample on these things of scorn;
By his own sting the fire-bound scorpion dies.