WORKS AND DAYS: THE FIVE AGES by HESIOD

THE gods who own Olympus as dwelling-place,
deathless, made first of mortals a Golden Race,
(this was the time when Kronos in heaven dwelt),
and they lived like gods and no sorrow of heart they felt.
Nothing for toil or pitiful age they cared,
but in strength of hand and foot still unimpaired
they feasted gaily, undarkened by sufferings.
They died as if falling asleep; and all good things
were theirs, for the fruitful earth unstintingly bore
unforced her plenty, and they, amid their store
enjoyed their landed ease which nothing stirred,
loved by the gods and rich in many a herd.

But in time the earth received and hid them away,
and now the pure spirits, haunting earth, are they,
kindly deliverers, watchers, by whom men live
in wealth, for that royal gift is theirs to give.

Next the immortals, who dwell on Olympus, made
a second race, of Silver, greatly decayed.
Neither in body nor thoughts were they like the Gold.
On his mother's skirt each frolicking child would hold,
a fatuous oaf, till a hundred years were past.
But when they had grown and attained their prime at last,
their lives were brief, yet wretched with folly; for still
they could not desist from sinning with cankered will
and wronging each other. Aye, scorn for the heavens they showed
and refused to the holy altars what victims were owed.
(Such service is owed by each race wherever they dwell.)
So Zeus was wroth, and the Race of Silver fell
for scorning the gods who hold Olympus in sway,
and in time the earth received and hid them away,
and under the earth they are blessed shades, and there,
though second in rank, a kind of honour they share.

Then Zeus the Father again made humankind,
a breed of Bronze, far differently designed,
a breed from the Ash-tree sprung, huge-limbed and dread,
lovers of battle and horror, no eaters of bread.
Their hearts were hard, their adamant hearts: none stood
to meet their power of limb and their hardihood
and the swing of the terrible arms their shoulders bore.
Bronze were their homes, bronze the armour they wore,
and their tools; for no dark iron supplied their needs.
And they murdered one another with violent deeds
and down to the house of dank chill Hades they went
and left no name. In black Death's grasp they spent
their turbulence, and lost the land of day,
and in time the earth received and hid them away.

Again on the bountiful earth by heaven was sent
a worthier race; on righteous deeds they were bent,
divine, heroic -- as demigods they are known,
and the boundless earth had their race before our own.
Some of them met grim war and its battle-fates:
in the land of Kadmos at Thebes with seven gates
they fought for OEdipus' flocks disastrously,
or were drawn to cross the gulf of mighty sea
for sake of Helen tossing her beautiful hair,
and death was the sudden shroud that wrapped them there.

But for some by grace of Zeus a fertile ground
apart from men, at the ends of the earth was found;
and there they dwell with never a care distressed,
by deep-swirled Ocean, safe in isles of the blest:
delighted heroes for whom in the fields of corn
honey-fruit thrice in the year is lusciously born.

Fifth is the race that I call my own and abhor.
O to die, or be later born, or born before!
This is the Race of Iron. Dark is their plight.
Toil and sorrow by day are theirs, and by night
the anguish of death; and the gods afflict them and kill,
though there's yet a trifle of good amid manifold ill.
And Zeus will smash them in turn on his chosen day,
when children at birth show heads already grown grey.

Father and child will quarrel and bring the end,
guest with host will quarrel, and friend with friend.
No brother will claim from brother the love once claimed,
and parents will quickly age, dishonoured and shamed,
and men will scorn them and bitter words they'll say,
hard-hearted, no longer god-fearing. They'll not repay
the cost of their nurture, but might their right they'll call,
and ravaging men will break through a city-wall.
No favour will then be found for the true or the just
or the good, but men will praise the creature of lust
and violence. Might will rule while decency dies.
Giving false witness and swearing to any lies,
the wicked will trick the worthy and strike them down.
Envy, that's foul of the mouth and dark with a frown,
will dog all mortals, for evil is his delight.
Down the broad paths of the earth for Olympus-height,
forsaking the human race for the gods, in flight
with beautiful bodies veiled in their robes of white,
Forbearance and Righteous Wrath will depart, and leave
evil too great to resist, and mortals who grieve.

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