Fighting towards Thebes
He brings peace, out-thinks the Sphinx,
Oedipus the King.
As a groom his fate
Is a room in the city.
Pity his weird doom.
Cursed to destroy them,
A boy driven from parents
Unfairly a toy.
Jocasta the Queen
Did not mean to wed her son;
It was unforeseen.
Sickness then returned;
Less than ever gods pitied
A city's distress.
Blind Tiresias,
With hindsight and hidden light,
Tells them what to find.
Fear overwhelming,
His dear one hanged, he will sigh,
Eyeless like the seer.
Tricked by oracles;
Picked over by purity;
Surely this is sick.
Blind, what can he mind
While his daughters support him?
The Furies unwind.
His sons join his fate
Their hate is shared in warfare
At the seventh gate.
Implacable, she
Defies the law of Creon
Wild Antigone.
Grim, the victim's corpse,
No dust to hide the rebel,
No pebble on him.
His son protested,
And though the people sang out
Creon still said no.
She went; the king bent
To a voice, the seer, his choice
too late to relent.
Then the tragic strife
Killed his wife, his son. He looked
As it took each life.
We can have no trust.
Divinely unjust they shock;
False gods mocking dust.
In Arcadia
Be amused without folly,
Polyhymnia.
She, whirling with glee,
Sings, mother of the Sirens,
Quick Terpsichore.
No sorrow, she loves.
Where is her beloved heart?
This is Erato.
By decree the key,
And her eloquence shall rule,
Queen Calliope.
Loved the great hero;
To follow by tree and sea
Pleased epic Clio.
Time, no barrier,
An idea, stars make plain
To Urania.
Crazier than most
She can see a happy trail,
Naked Thalia.
We hear and agree,
Lady of the double flute,
So plays Euterpe.
Who is free? the plea
Is heard by the tragic bell
Of Melpomene.
Each part of the heart
Touched by the various line;
Nine to inspire art