Now from the smithy's glowing flame
Two different sorts of weapons came:
To _hit_ the mark was one designed;
As sure to _miss_, the other kind.
The second sort the Thunderer threw,
Which not a human being slew;
But roaring loudly, hurtled wide
On forest-top and mountain-side!
MORAL
What means this ancient tale? That _Jove_
In wrath still felt a parent's love:
Whatever crimes he may have done,
The father yearns to spare the son.
--John G. Saxe
THE PRAYER OF SOCRATES
_Socrates_
Ere we leave this friendly sky,
And cool Ilyssus flowing by,
Change the shrill cicala's song
For the clamor of the throng,
Let us make a parting prayer
To the gods of earth and air.
_Phaedrus_
My wish, O Friend, accords with thine,
Say thou the prayer, it shall be mine.
_Socrates_
This then, I ask, O thou beloved Pan,
And all ye other gods: Help, as ye can,
That I may prosper in the inner man;
Grant ye that what I have or yet may win
Of those the outer things may be akin
And constantly at peace within;
May I regard the wise the rich, and care
Myself for no more gold, as my earth-share,
Than he who's of an honest heart can bear.
--John H. Finley
BY THE ROMAN ROAD
"Poetry and paganism do not mix very well nowadays.
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