There my Iolcos stands, and many more
Fair ample cities, that adorn the shore.
What time, as rumored by the voice of fame,
Eolian Minyas to that country came,

He built, close bordering on the Theban ground;
Orchomenos, a city far renowned.

But why your wonder should I vainly raise,
My birth-place tell, and Ariadne's praise?
For this the virgin's name you now inquire,
A lovely maid, and Minos is her sire.

Oh! may, like hers, your sire propitious prove,
Who honored Theseus with his daughter's love!"

Complacent thus he soothed her sorrowing soul; Yet anxious cares within her bosom roll.

"Perchance in Greece" (the pensive maid rejoined)
"Oaths are revered, and solemn compacts bind.
But Minos greatly differs from my sire,
Nor I to Ariadne's charms aspire.
Then mention hospitality no more;

But, safe conducted to thy native shore,
Grant this, 'tis all I ask, Oh! think of me,
As I forever shall remember thee,

In my great sire, the Colchian king's despite:

But if thy pride my ardent passion slight,
Fame, or some bird, the hateful news will bring;
Then will I chase thee on the tempest's wing,
Brand thy false heart, thy cursed familiar be,
And prove thou ow'st thy life-thy all-to me."
Medea thus, and tears abundant shed;

And mildly thus the son of Æson said:

"In vain, dear nymph, thy missive bird shall soar, Through air sublime, in vain the tempest roar.

But if towards Greece thou deign'st thy course to bear, Immortal honors shall attend thee there;

There husbands, brothers, sons, so long deplored,

Safe to their native land by thee restored,

Shall as a goddess reverence thy name,

And pay thee rites which only Gods can claim.

But wouldst thou grace my bed with bridal state,

Our love can only be dissolved by fate."

His words with rapture all her soul subdue; Yet gloomy objects rise before her view,

Ordained, ere long, Thessalia's realms to see;
For such was Juno's absolute decree,

That soon to Greece the Colchian maid should go,
To Pelias, source of unremitting woe.

Meanwhile apart her anxious handmaids stay,
In silence waiting till the close of day:
Such pleasing transports in her bosom roll,
His form, his words, so captivate her soul,
On feathered feet the hours unheeded fled,

Which warned her home: "Hence" (cautious Jason said), "Hence let us hasten unperceived away,

And here enraptured pass some future day."

Thus the blest hours in converse sweet they spent,

And both unwilling from the temple went;

He to his comrades bordering on the main,
The fair Medea to her virgin train.

Her train approached, but stood unnoticed by;
Her soul sublime expatiates in the sky.
Her rapid car she mounts; this hand sustains
The polished thong, and that the flowing reins.
Fleet o'er the plain the nimble steeds conveyed
To Ea's walls the love-transported maid.

MEDEA'S FLIGHT.

MEANWHILE the imperial queen of heaven had shed
O'er the fair virgin's breast despondent dread.
She starts, she trembles, as, pursued by hounds,
The fawn light skipping o'er the meadow bounds.

She fears the secrets of her soul betrayed,

And her sire's vengeance for her proffered aid.

Her handmaids, conscious of her crimes, she fears;

Her eyes fierce flames emit, loud murmurs fill her ears.
Her death she meditates in wild despair,

And, sadly sighing, tears her golden hair.
Now fate imbibing from the poisoned bowl,
Soon had she freed her voluntary soul,
And Juno's projects all been rendered vain,
But kindly pitying a lover's pain,

The Goddess urged with Phrixus' sons her flight,
And eased her bosom of its sorrow's weight.
Forth from her casket every drug she pours,

And to her lap consigns the magic stores.
Then with a parting kiss her bed she pressed,
Clung round each door and even the walls caressed.
A lock she tore of loosely-flowing hair,
And safe consigned it to her mother's care,
The sacred relic of her virgin-fame;
And wailing thus invoked Idya's name:

"This lock, O mother, at my hand receive, Which I, far-distant roaming, with thee leave. Farewell, Chalciope; far hence I roam!

And thou farewell, my first, my dearest home!
Oh! hadst thou, stranger, in deep ocean drowned,
Perished, and never trod on Colchian ground!"

She spoke, and tears her heart-felt woe betrayed;
Then fled she instant. Thus the captive maid,
When, from her friends and country banished far,
She shares the miserable fate of war,
Disused to toil beneath a tyrant's sway,
Flies from oppression's rod with speed away.
With speed like hers the weeping fair withdrew:
The doors spontaneous opened as she flew,
Shook by her magic song; barefoot she strays
Through winding paths and unfrequented ways.
Beyond the city-walls with trembling haste,
Unseen of all the sentinels she passed,
Then by accustomed paths explored the fane,
Where spectres rise and plants diffuse their baue;
(Thus practice magic maids their mystic art)
Fears ill portending flutter round her heart. . . .
She said: impetuous hastening to the flood,
Soon on its lofty banks Medea stood.

A fire which midnight's deadly gloom dispelled,
Signal of conquest gained she here beheld.

Involved in shade, the solitary dame

Raised her shrill voice and called on Phrontis' name.

Known was her voice to Phrixus' sons, who bear

The grateful tidings to their leader's ear.

The truth discovered, the confederate host
All silent stood, in wild amazement lost.

Loud called she thrice; and with responsive cries,
His friends requesting, Phrontis thrice replies.
Quick at her call they ply the bending oar;

Nor were their halsers fastened to the shore,
When Eson's son at once decisive bound
Leaps from the lofty deck upon the ground;
Phrontis and Argus hasten to her aid,
Whose knees embracing, this Medea prayed:
"Oh! save me, friends, from my offended sire,
Oh! save yourselves from dread Eeta's ire.
Known are our projects: sail we hence afar,
Ere Ea's monarch mounts his rapid car.
My magic charms shall close the dragon's eyes,
And soon reward you with the golden prize.
But thou, loved guest, continue faithful still,
And swear whate'er thou'st promis'd to fulfill:
Ah! leave me not to infamy a scorn,

By all my friends abandoned and forlorn."

Plaintive she spoke: his arms around her waist Rapturous he threw, then raised her and embraced, And solaced thus in terms of tenderest love:

"By heaven's high king I swear, Olympian Jove, By Juno, goddess of the nuptial rite,

Soon as my native land transports my sight,
Thou, lovely virgin, shalt be duly led,

Adorned with honors, to my bridal bed."

This said, in hers he closed his plighted hand:

To Mars's grove Medea gave command,

Spite of her sire, the vessel to convey,

And bear by night the golden fleece away.

Swift at the word they sprung; the Colchian maid
Embarked, and instant was their anchor weighed.
Their crashing oars resound: she oft to land
Reverts her eye and waves her trembling hand:
But son's son his ready aid affords,
And soothes her sorrows with consoling words.

CLEANTHES.

CLEANTHES, the Stoic philosopher, was born at Assos, in Asia Minor, about B.C. 300. In early life he was a pugilist, and as such went to Athens to exhibit his skill in the manly art. But, overcome by his new environment, the boxer was attracted to study philosophy, at first under Crates and afterwards under Zeno. Having now no visible means of support, he was summoned before the high court of Areopagus. There he explained that though his days were spent in philosophical pursuits, he worked at night in gardens. The judges, impressed by this industry and love of study, voted him ten minæ, but Zeno would not permit him to accept their bounty. Cleanthes succeeded Zeno as master of the Stoic school. At the age of eighty he is said to have died of voluntary starvation. His sublime "Hymn to Zeus" is the only relic of his composition. The following version is by Professor F. W. Newman.

HYMN TO ZEUS (JUPITER).

ALMIGHTY alway! many-named! most glorious of the deathless! Zeus! primal spring of nature, who with Law directest all things. Hail! for to bow salute to Thee, to every man is holy;

For we from Thee an offspring are, to whom, alone of mortals That live and move along the Earth, the mimic voice is granted! Therefore to Thee I hymns will sing and always chant thy great

ness.

Subject to Thee is yonder sky, which 'round the earth forever
Majestic rolls at thy command, and gladly feels thy guidance.
So mighty is the weapon, clenched within thy hands unconquered.
The double-edged and fiery bolt of ever-living lightning.
For Nature through her every part beneath its impulse shudders,
Whereby the universal scheme Thou guidest

Which, through all things proceeding,

Intermingles, deep with greater light and smaller,

When Thou, so vast in essence, art a king supreme forever.

Nor upon Earth is any work done without Thee, O Spirit!

Nor at the Æther's utmost height divine, nor in the Ocean,