Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NEWS FROM OLYMPIA, by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Olympia? Yes, strange tidings from the city Last Line: To banish yet the dream. Subject(s): Olympia, Greece | ||||||||
OLYMPIA? Yes, strange tidings from the city Which pious mortals builded, stone by stone, For those old gods of Hellas, half in pity Of their storm-mantled height and dwelling lone, Their seat upon the mountain overhanging Where Zeus withdrew behind the rolling cloud, Where crowned Apollo sang, the phorminx twanging, And at Poseidon's word the forests bowed. Ay, but that fated day When from the plain Olympia passed away; When ceased the oracles, and long unwept Amid their fanes the gods deserted fell, While sacerdotal ages, as they slept, The ruin covered well! The pale Jew flung his cross, thus one has written, Among them as they sat at the high feast, And saw the gods, before that token smitten, Fade slowly, while His presence still increased, Until the seas Ionian and AEgaean Gave out a cry that Pan himself was dead, And all was still: thenceforth no more the paean, No more by men the prayer to Zeus was said. Sank, like a falling star, Hephaistos in the Lemnian waters far; The silvery Huntress fled the darkened sky; Dim grew Athene's helm, Apollo's crown; Alpheios' nymphs stood wan and trembling by When Hera's fane went down. News! what news? Has it in truth then ended, The term appointed for that wondrous sleep? Has Earth so well her fairest brood defended Within her bosom? Was their slumber deep Not this our dreamless rest that knows no waking, But that to which the years are as a day? What! are they coming back, their prison breaking, -- These gods of Homer's chant, of Pindar's lay? Are they coming back in might, Olympia's gods, to claim their ancient right? Shall then the sacred majesty of old, The grace that holy was, the noble rage, Temper our strife, abate our greed for gold, Make fine the modern age? Yes, they are coming back, to light returning! Bold are the hearts and void of fear the hands That toil, the lords of War and Spoil unurning, Or of their sisters fair that break the bands; That loose the sovran mistress of desire, Queen Aphrodite, to possess the earth Once more; that dare renew dread Hera's ire, And rouse old Pan to wantonness of mirth. The herald Nike, first, From the dim resting-place unfettered burst, Winged victor over fate and time and death! Zeus follows next, and all his children then; Phoibos awakes and draws a joyous breath, And Love returns to men. Ah, let them come, the glorious Immortals, Rulers no more, but with mankind to dwell, The dear companions of our hearts and portals, Voiceless, unworshipped, yet beloved right well! Pallas shall sit enthroned in wisdom's station, Eros and Psyche be forever wed, And still the primal loveliest creation Yield new delight from ancient beauty bred. Triumphant as of old, Changeless while Art and Song their warrant hold, The visions of our childhood haunt us still, Still Hellas sways us with her charm supreme. The morn is past, but Man has not the will To banish yet the dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MOTHER'S PICTURE by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN BETROTHED ANEW by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN FALSTAFF'S SONG by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN HYMN OF THE WEST by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN JOHN BROWN OF OSAWATOMIE [OCTOBER 16, 1859] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN PAN IN WALL STREET by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN PETER STUYVESANT'S NEW YEAR'S CALL, 1 JAN. 1661 by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN SUMTER [APRIL 12, 1861] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN THE HAND OF LINCOLN by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN |
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