You are in Athens now, and you shall see The splendor of that age of long renown When Perikles was prince in Pallas' town Amidst a people mighty-souled and free Whose eminence and bright supremacy Made Zeus grow jealous, and wan Clotho frown, So that the nations rose to bring her down, To bring high Athens down, till she should be A name, a memory only; yet a name That burns--a beacon on the heights of time, Lighting the ages' darkness, making sublime The fame of Hellas with its smokeless flame. And you shall see and hear now, all those men That shone round Perikles: Thucydides, Ariston, Crito, Phidias, Sokrates, And many high-souled women, famous then, Teachers and seers and sages whose far ken Pierced deep the hidden realms of being. These Are gathered midst the Academian bowers To keep their Anthesterian Feast of Flowers Held every year in Athens. To their feast Comes one sent by that Great King in the East Whose sire was countered in the perilous hours Of Salamis and Marathon. But now To seal a pact with Athens, with high vow Linking the Athenian and the Persian powers Against the martial Spartan--Xerxes' son, Enthroned Artaxerxes, sendeth one Whom you shall see here in great pomp attend, An honored guest, well-welcomed--Athens' friend, The Persian Pharnabazus. In his hands Is given the sway of those Bithynian meads Where roam innumerable herds of steeds Much sought by war-kings in a thousand lands. Mighty with Median strength he comes--with gold Of Ind and Araby, and those nations old Which the strong Persian tamed, bedecked; and gems That erst adorned great princes' diadems Of fallen dynasties--pearls of Oman, dyes Wrought in Turanian vats to out-do the blooms Of Yemen spicy-breezed, and webs from looms The deft Cashmirian or Cathayan plies-- A strong and courteous lord. Right well he knows By what stern virtues Persia broke her foes, Bringing the jeweled throne of Croesus down, And Phrygia's wealth, and Egypt's twofold crown; What Magian training molds the Persian youth To scorn of luxury, worship of truth, Honor and gratitude; but in Athene's town Findeth a bloom of soul and wit, in sooth, He knows no secret for; and must inquire By what strange kindling of what inward fire Athenian, by what quest of deathless dream, Athens is made so wondrously to gleam Above the rest of the world. Him answering there, The Athenian citizens, the violet-crowned, Speak one by one deep wisdom, and propound Those balanced views that made their land so fair. But even while they speak, lo, in the air Gathers a cloud, a menace--trumpets sound-- The Spartan herald comes. Stern words are these He utters; sternly answereth Perikles-- There shall be war: Athens stoops not to a peace