ry field was fair
And song-birds carolled in the azure air,
A man of mighty stature swiftly strode,
And took his way along the winding road
That led to well-walled Argos and the sea.
From Lerna's fens a salty breeze blew free,
And stirred the locks that fell his shoulders down
And wreathed his forehead like a golden crown.
Upon his shield--a sight to hold men mute--
Was seen the head of the Nemean brute;
Within one hand a gnarled club he bore,
Hewn from an oak bole in the forest hoar.
The shafts of Hermes, and the wondrous bow,
The helm of Vulcan with its fiery glow,
The fine-wrought peplus fluttering in the breeze,
Proclaimed the hero valiant Hercules.
Beside the torrent Perseia that won
Its way to join the sweet Asterion,
Through flowery meads and field of greening grain,
The hero's pathway led him o'er the plain;
But ere the walls of Argos met his view,
Or ere he saw the AEgean shining blue,
He turned, and toward the mountain peaks that rose
Along the far horizon, capped with snows
Of lands Arcadian, pursued his quest.
And many days he fared with meagre rest
Taken in starlit hours 'neath forest boughs,
Where nightly Queen Titania's elves carouse.
By day he hasted with unflagging pace
Through woodland depths where Dian's hounds gave chase
To startled deer, through fields by yeomen tilled,
Through vineyards whence the winepress would be filled
When teeming Autumn with her purple fine
Had tinged the grape upon the yielding vine;
Through olive groves that, in good time, would bear
A bounteous fruitage 'neath the pruner's care:
And those who saw him as he sped along
Paused 'mid their work, or hushed the jocund song
To do him homage. None in all the land
But felt the blessings that his potent hand
Had widely wrought; remote were they and few
But that his face and stately presence knew.
Where'er his many wanderings led, he heard
In field or household no unwelcome word;
Whene'er he came, though bread and wine were spent,
He saw no frown nor look of ill content.

At last, when many nights the vernal moon
Had risen and set, and song-birds presaged June,
One sultry eve the weary hero came
To mountain hamlet where his matchless fame
Had been on all men's lips, but where his face
Was known to none; and in the marke