TYRTAEUS
Paean of the Spartans
Before mighty Sparta, you children of the citizen fathers, with your left hand you raise your shield, and with your right hand you boldly raise your spear, without sparing your life, for this is not customary in Sparta!
Oath Of Sparta
Genuine sons of Sparta bold! Firm and full your bucklers hold: With intrepid step advance: Poise and point the vengeful lance. Life despise and dare to fall: Glory and your country call!
Spartan Valor
Let a man learn how to fight by first daring to perform mighty deeds, Not where the missiles won't reach, if he is armed with a shield, But getting in close where fighting is hand to hand, inflicting a wound With his long spear or his sword, taking the enemy's life, With his foot planted alongside a foot and his shield pressed against shield, And his crest up against crest and his helm up against helm And breast against breast, embroiled in the action—let him fight man to man, Holding secure in his grasp haft of his sword or his spear!
Spartan Excellence
This is excellence, this is the finest possession of men, the noblest price that a young man can endeavour to perform. This is a common good for the city and all the people, when a man stands firm and remains unmoved in the front ranks and forgets all thoughts of disgraceful flight, steeling his spirit and heart to endure, and with words encourages the man standing beside him. This is the men who is good in war.
The Gift of Zeus to the Heracleids
For Zeus himself, son of Cronos, husband of beautiful-crowned Hera, hath given this city to the Heracleids. Along with whom, having left windy Erinyes, we arrived at the broad isle of Pelops.
The Valor of Spartan Youths
Youths, citizens of Sparta abounding in good men, First, with the left hand, indeed, thrust forward shield and lance, Throwing them with good courage, and not sparing life in behalf of your fatherland.
MARCHING SONG
UP, in free-born hardihood,
Soldiers born of Spartan blood!
Guard your left with shields a-swinging;
High the gallant spear-shafts flinging.
Hoard not life nor stint to pay:
Such was never Sparta's way.
MARTIAL ELEGY
How glorious fall the valiant, sword in hand,
In front of battle for their native land!
But oh! what ills await the wretch that yields,
A recreant outcast from his country's fields!
The mother whom he loves shall quit her home,
An aged father at his side shall roam;
His little ones shall weeping with him go,
And a young wife participate his woe;
While scorned and scowled upon by every face,
They pine for food, and beg from place to place.
Stain of his breed! dishonouring manhood's form!
All ills shall cleave to him: -- affliction's storm
Shall bind him wandering in the vale of years,
Till, lost to all but ignominious fears,
He shall not blush to leave a recreant's name,
And children, like himself, inured to shame.
But we will combat for our fathers' land,
And we will drain the life-blood where we stand,
To save our children: -- fight ye side by side,
And serried close, ye men of youthful pride,
Disdaining fear, and deeming light the cost
Of life itself in glorious battle lost.
Leave not our sires to stem the unequal fight,
Whose limbs are nerved no more with buoyant might
Nor, lagging backward, let the younger breast
Permit the man of age, (a sight unblessed,)
To welter in the combat's foremost thrust,
His hoary head dishevelled in the dust,
And venerable bosom bleeding bare.
But youth's fair form, though fallen, is ever fair,
And beautiful in death the boy appears,
The hero boy that dies in blooming years:
In man's regret he lives, and woman's tears,
More sacred than in life, and lovelier far,
For having perished in the front of war.
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