Linking hands, the Cretan women Moving gracefully with metric Steps began to dance a measure To the Goddess. All so light their feet unsandalled Pressed the velvet grass in treading, That they scarcely bruised its tender Blooming verdure. Slowly turning in a circle To the east, their voices chanted In a plaintive note the sacred Ithyphallics; Then they paused, their steps retracing Toward the west, and answered strophe By antistrophe with choric Tones accordant; With the aftersong epodic, Standing all before the altar, Lo! the hymn in praise of Paphos Was completed. TO ALCÆUS Countless are the cups thou drainest In thy hymns to Dionysos, O Alcæus! War and wine alone thou singest;-- Whereforenot of Aphrodite, O Alcæus! Spacious halls are thine where many Trophies hang in Ares' honor, O Alcæus! Brazen shields and shining helmets, Plates of brass, Chalcidian broad-swords, O Alcæus! When with winter roars the Thracian North wind through the leafless forest, O Alcæus! Thou dost heap the fire and banish Care with many a tawny goblet, O Alcæus! HYPORCHEME Thus contend the maidens In the cretic dance, Rosy arms that glisten, Eyes that glance; Cheeks as fair as blossoms, Parted lips that glow, With their honeyed voices Chanting low; With their plastic bodies Swaying to the flute, Moving with the music Never mute; Graceful the orchestric Figures they unfold, While the vesper heaven Turns to gold. LARICHUS While charming maids plait garlands for thy brows, Larichus, bring the pledge for this carouse Like lovely Ganymede, brother mine, And cool from thy patera pour the wine. Thy slender limbs have all a Satyr's grace, Hylas, the Wood-God, dimples in thy face; These maids of mine, beloved and loving me, My dreams have made thy Nymphs to sport with thee. I heard fair Mitylene's plaudits cease O'er Lykas, Menon and Dinnomenes; And hail thy beauty worthy of the prize, Cupbearer to the council of the wise. No noble youth the prytaneum holds, Whose graceful form the purple tunic folds Can match with thee, when on affairs of state All Lesbos gathers with the wise and great. SPRING Come, shell divine, be vocal now for me, As when the Hebrus river and the sea To Lesbos bore, on waves harmonious, The head and golden lyre of Orpheus.