Maiden there was whom Jove 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. And many tears are shed 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. But they whose prow hath past thy straits 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. At last there swells the hymn of praise, And who inspires those sacred lays? "The founder of the walls ye see." What human power could elevate Those walls, that citadel, that gate? "Miletus, O my sons! was he." Hail then, Miletus! hail, beloved town, Parent of me and mine! But let not power alone be thy renown, Nor chiefs of ancient line, Nor visits of the Gods, unless They leave their thoughts below, And teach us that we most should bless Those to whom most we owe. Restless is Wealth; the nerves of Power Sink, as a lute's in rain; The Gods lend only for an hour And then call back again All else than Wisdom; she alone, In Truth's or Virtue's form, Descending from the starry throne Thro' radiance and thro' storm, Remains as long as godlike men Afford her audience meet, Nor Time nor War tread down again The traces of her feet. Always hast thou, Miletus, been the friend, Protector, guardian, father, of the wise; Therefore shall thy dominion never end Till Fame, despoil'd of voice and pinion, dies. With favouring shouts and flowers thrown fast behind, Arctinos ran his race, No wanderer he, alone and blind . . And Melesander was untorn by Thrace. There have been, but not here, Rich men who swept aside the royal feast On child's or bondman's breast, Bidding the wise and aged disappear. Revere the aged and the wise, Aspasia! but thy sandal is not worn To trample on these things of scorn; By his own sting the fire-bound scorpion dies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GIANT PUFFBALL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN THE MORNING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1884 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ON A FOUNTAIN AND ITS ARCHITECT by PHILIP AYRES LYNTON VERSES: 5 by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |