Can anyone identify a Greek poetic meter?

[Anthony Appleyard]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Saunders_Evans

Thomas Saunders Evans (TSE) in the 19th century wrote much Latin and Greek verse, original and translating. One of them was in Greek about a foxhunt (pp 40-42 in the book referenced in the page at the above link). It has 91 lines, each with mostly 7 syllables, some 8. The basic scansion is u - u - u - - (3 iambs and an anceps); the anceps is usually long; sometimes the first syllable is long or split. Two lines each end in the word δ' elided across an end-of-line. Does this meter have a name? Is it known elsewhere?

At its end the poem is attributed as "Faciebant T. S. E. et C. Evans. Nov. 1848.".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One of his poems (lines 25-26, op.cit.) is "To H.A.J Munro, after receiving a copy of his translations into Latin and Greek Verse". That poem is in Latin, in 39 dactylic hexameters. Are any copies of H.A.J Munro's work available or still existing?

That poem mentions modern things, e.g. the line "sed quando Scotus volucer te volvet ad Arcton,".

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flying_Scotsman_(train)

These page numbers are as in a modern printed reprint which I have. The page numbers may be different in a .pdf downloaded copy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At least 5 more of his poems are letters addressed by TSE to particular other people:

pp 22-23, op.cit.: 'Carolo Evandro, uxore ducta, T.S.E. congratulatur', Latin, 52 lines, may be Alcaic

p21, op.cit.: 'Amico uxorem ducturo TSE congratulatur, Lyntonae, a.d. iii, Id. Iul, 1852', Latin, 30 lines, dactylic hexameters.

and three in Greek (pp 46 etseq, op.cit.)

To DR BENSON, WHEN BISHOP OF TRURO. AN INVITATION TO ATTEND THE ENTHRONEMENT OF BlSHOP LlGHTFOOT AT DURHAM

To BISHOP ELLICOTT ON HIS APPOINTMENT TO THE SEE OF GLOUCESTER AND BRISTOL. WRITTEN FROM WHITBY.

To HENRY HOLDEN, D.D. ON HIS RESIGNATION OF THE HEADMASTERSHIP OF DURHAM SCHOOL

[jeidsath]

Anacreontic, I'd think. It reminds me of Cupid and the Bee.

EDIT:

A Fox-Hunt

ΩΣ ἡδέως ἄν, εἴ τις
παρέχοι σφριγῶντα πῶλον,
ὁμοθυμαδὸν Μολοσσαῖς
ἱππηλατῶν ἑποίμην.
ὅπως κλύοιμ’, ὅτ’ εὔρις
ἰχνοσκοπῶν ἀν’ ὕλην
κύων τέκμαρ δύσοσμον
εὑρὼν σαφὲς βαΰζοι.

ἔα· τί φῶ; τί δράσω;
ἀνεπτέρωκε κλαγγὴ
ἵππους, κύνας, κυναγούς.
ἐλευτεροστομούντων δ’
ὑλάγμασιν Μολοσσῶν
φρυάγμασίν τε πώλων
πᾶς ἀγρὸς ἀντιφωνεῖ.
ἔκλυον κελεύσματ’ ἀνδρῶν,
ἰοὺ ἰού, βοώντων,
ἰοὺ ἰού, ἀλώπηξ!
ὁ πυρσόθριξ δ’ ὁρᾶται
στέγην ὑπεκτρέχων θήρ,
ποδωκίᾳ πεποιθὼς
γαυρούμενός τε κέρκου
συρμῷ περισσομηκεῖ.
οἱ τηλόθεν δ’ ἄγραυλοι,
στύγος τὸ χρυσόχαιτες
ὅτ’ εὐθέως κατεῖδον,
ἐπωλόλυξαν· ἀνδρῶν δ’
ἤδη φλέγει διωγμός,
σκύλακα σκύλαξ ὀτρύνων.
ἐλελεῦ! θέλω διώκειν,
θέλω μέν, οὐκ ἔχω δὲ
ὅπως· τὸ μὲν θέλημα,
τὸ δ’ ἔργον οὐ πάρεστιν.
ὦ δυστυχέστατ’ ἀνδρῶν,
ἄπωλος ὢν ἀπώλου!
εἰ γὰρ πόροι τις ἵππον,
ἵνα συγκυναγὸς εἴην
μηδὲ σχολὴν ἀτερπῆ
ἄγοιμι τήνδε πεζός.
τὸ μὴν θέαμά γ’ ἡδύ,
κρεῖσσόν τε τοῦ διδάσκειν.
ἐπεὶ γελᾷ μὲν αἰθήρ,
στολὴ δὲ μιλτόπρεπτος
θηρευτικῶν χιτώνων
χλοερὰν πρέπει καθ’ ὕλην.
θύραν δὲ πεντάμοχλον
ὑπερθορόντος ἵππου
ἀπ’ ἀστράβης ὀλισθὼν
γῆν προσκυνεῖ τις ἄκων.
σίνος καλοῦ χιτῶνος.
ἄλλοι δ’ ἐπεγγελῶσιν
ἐν ἀστράβαις ἔτ’ ὀρθοί,
ἄνιππον εἰσορῶντες.
μαστίκτορος δὲ πληγαὶ
ἠχοῦσιν, ὡς Μολοσσῶν
ὀσμῆς ἀποσφαλεισῶν.
ἔα· τί τοῦτο λεύσσω;
οὐ συνδρομοῦντας, ὡς πρίν,
ἄλλους δ’ ἰόντας ἄλλῃ.
βλασφημίαις δ’ ἀράσσει
ὁ κυνηγετὴς τὸν ὄχλον,
ἀναίτιόν περ ὄντα.
οὕτω δ’ ἀμηχανοῦντος
θορυβουμένου θ’ ὁμίλου,
ἀποβλέπει σεσηρὼς
ὁ μηχανορράφος θήρ,
εὔελπις ὡς ἔτ’ οὐράν,
πυγῆς ἄγαλμ’, ἄκουρον
κομιούμενος δομόνδε.

χαρά, χαρά μ’ ὑφέρπει·
ὄλωλ’, ὄλωλ’ ἀλώπηξ,
θήραμα τοὐπίτριπτον,
ἡ πρὶν βλάβη μὲν ᾤων,
διαφθορὰ δὲ χηνῶν,
τέθνηκεν, οὐκέτ’ ἐστίν,
λέλοιπεν ἡλίου φῶς,
μόρῳ κυνοσπαράκτῳ!
σιγῶσι μὲν γὰρ ἤδη
σκύλακες, βοῶσι δ’ ἄνδρες
παῦροι μέν, ἐκ δὲ θυμοῦ
ᾄδουσι καλλίνικον.
ἀλλ’ εἷς ἀνὴρ ἄριστος
τὸν εὖ κομῶντα κέρκον
τῆς ἱππικῆς ἔπαθλον
ἠνείκατ’, ἐν πατρώᾳ
στήσων τρόπαιον αὐλῇ,
τοίχων χλιδὴν κρεμαστόν.
οἶμαι δ’ ἄν, εἴ τις ἵππον
ἔδωκε καίριόν μοι,
ἐγὼ τὸν εὖ κομῶντ’ ἂν
κέρκον τυχεῖν ἀπούρας.

Faciebant T. S. E. et C. Evans
Nov. 1848

[Anthony Appleyard]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anacreontics

H.A.J Munro may be Hugh Andrew Johnstone Munro.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hugh_Andr ... tone_Munro

[jeidsath]

Since you asked, here are Munro's translations into Greek and Latin Verse: https://books.google.com/books?id=a0tKAAAAIAAJ

I had him confused with Monro, of Homeric fame.

You may also be interested in Sabrinae Corolla: https://books.google.com/books?id=308CAAAAQAAJ

[Anthony Appleyard]

In the second line, what does σφριγῶντα mean? It is not in my Liddell and Scott dictionary. (I can see that it is an accusative case of a contracted -ont- -type participle.)

Likely "Molossoi" is used repeatedly for "hounds" to reflect British foxhunters' dislike of people referring to their hounds as "dogs".

μαστίκτωρ presumably is in foxhunting language a "whipper-in".

If εὔρις is "keen-scented", should it have been εὔῤῥις ?

In the last line but 4, what is οἶμαι ? Again, Liddell and Scott leads to a broken trail.

[polemistes]

σφριγάω is in my LSJ. Look again and tell if it's not in yours.

[Anthony Appleyard]

σφριγάω is in my LSJ. Look again and tell if it's not in yours.

Thanks. Sorry. I have found it.

One line says "ἐπεὶ γελᾷ μὲν αἰθήρ,". This looks like "after the sky or the upper air laughs". Does this have some usual idiomatic or figurative meaning in Greek?

I now have translated this poem through. Should I post my translation here, so that others can comment on it? Or should I not do that, but leave the text for each to translate in his/her own time?

[mwh]

It’s not actually in anacreontics (uu—x—u——), but in catalectic iambic dimeters (x—u—u——), like a good number of the poems in the miscellaneous collection known as the Anacreontea (not actually by Anacreon).

If you do post your translation, Anthony, it will be interesting to see how you handle the various puns.

[Anthony Appleyard]

I have ordered a copy of Munro's translations into Greek and Latin verse.

Here is my translation of 'A Fox-Hunt':-

As sweetly as if someone had a good fit horse, like-mindedly with hounds, I would follow the horse-mounted chase. So I would hear when a keen-scented [hound] looking at a trail in a wood, finding a bad-smelling sign, certainly would bark.

Oh, what will I say? What will I do? The noise has given speed to horses, dogs, huntsman, and barkings of free-mouthed-crying hounds and neighings of horses, and all the field resounds. I heard the commands of men, "Halloo halloo" of men calling out, "halloo halloo", a fox! The fire-haired animal is seen running out of cover, persuaded by swiftness of foot and exulting in his bushy tail, which is longer than usual.

The country people, when they see from afar the golden-coated hated one, immediately raised a cry of triumph; and the pursuit by men becomes hot, dogs encourage dogs.

Tallyho! I want to pursue, I want, but I do not have the means; the wish is there, but not the substance. O most unfortunate of men, horseless, be lost! [Pun here in the Greek] If someone granted [me] a horse, so that I could be a fellow huntsman, but [to avoid] unpleasing idleness I would go there on foot to the indeed sweet sight, and more strongly to be taught, after the upper air laughs [Do these words in Greek have an idiomatic meaning?, perhaps "if the gods are willing"?] and the conspicuous red clothing, easily seen under the green woodland.

And [fallen] from a horse jumping over a 5-barred gate from smooth slippery [ground], someone unwillingly lies on the ground, spoiling his fine jacket. And others pass a message on straight and at once, seeing the horseless [man]. The whipper-in's lashings echo, because the hounds strayed from the scent.

Oh, what is this that I see? No men running together, as before, and others going another way. The huntsman lashes the crowd with blasphemies, although they are not guilty. He sees and looks away from him who is at a loss and from the disorderly crowd. The sly animal, still well hoping that he will carry his tail, the ornament of his rump, uncut to his home.

Joy, joy, creeps over me. Perished, perished, has the fox, the hunt-quarry torn to pieces, who previously was harm to eggs, a ravager of geese, is dead, no longer exists, has left the light of the sun, by a fate torn apart by dogs! For the dogs are silent indeed, few men shout, and out of their hearts they feel good victory. But one high-ranking man has carried the well-hairy tail, to hang it on a wall of luxury in his ancestral property. And I would think that, if in time someone gave me a horse, I may chance to take away a well-haired tail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In lines 5 and 8 there may be a pun: εὔρις ... εὑρὼν :: "having a good sense of smell" and "finding".

[mwh]

The opening ὡς ἡδέως … is not “As sweetly” but “How gladly,” exclamatory ὡς. Then εἴ τις παρεχοι is not “as if someone had” (a horse) but “if someone were to provide” (me with a horse). For the sentiment cf. “My kingdom for a horse.”

The ending reverts to the theme. There οἶμαι δ’ ἄν, εἴ τις ἵππον ἔδωκε …” is not “And I would think that, if in time someone gave me a horse …” but “I think that if someone had given me a horse …”. The ἄν goes not with οιμαι but with the upcoming infinitive (τυχεῖν), standard word order. “I think Ι would have …”. Too late now.

I’ll leave it to others to correct what comes inbetween.

—In the punning ἄπωλος ὢν ἀπώλου, ἀπώλου is indicative. And the following εἰ γὰρ … is “If only …”, a wish. Then you go badly wrong. The composer writes in the person of a teacher (κρεῖσσόν τε τοῦ διδάσκειν “and better than teaching”), as of course he is.

There’s a subtler pun in the very last word, ἀπούρας. That’s a detail.

[Anthony Appleyard]

The opening ὡς ἡδέως … is not ...

Thanks for the help. Someone to correct my errors is better than me having to flounder about by myself. By the time I got to school, sciences had pushed Greek off the timetable.

[mwh]

…
ἀλλ’ εἷς ἀνὴρ ἄριστος
τὸν εὖ κομῶντα κέρκον
τῆς ἱππικῆς ἔπαθλον
ἠνείκατ’, ἐν πατρώᾳ
στήσων τρόπαιον αὐλῇ,
τοίχων χλιδὴν κρεμαστόν.
οἶμαι δ’ ἄν, εἴ τις ἵππον
ἔδωκε καίριόν μοι,
ἐγὼ τὸν εὖ κομῶντ’ ἂν
κέρκον τυχεῖν ἀπούρας.
i.e. If only someone had given me a horse, it would have been me who got fox’s bushy tail, the trophy of victory in the hunt, instead of the huntsman who actually has. We’re to imagine this scholarly teacher gazing out of his study window at the foxhunt taking place in the fields outside and fantasizing about participating in it and coming back with the trophy. And all he needed was a horse!

It ruins jokes to explain them, but I guess I should unpack the pun that wickedly caps this delightful composition. An οὐρά is a tail, so ἀπ-ούρας in addition to its proper meaning suggests “having removed the tail.” He’s contrived to say the same thing twice over in a single phrase.

I gave it away, or tried, with a verbum sapienti, calling it a “detail” (“de-tail,” geddit?).

[Anthony Appleyard]

…. An οὐρά is a tail, so ἀπ-ούρας in addition to its proper meaning suggests “having removed the tail.” He’s contrived to say the same thing twice over in a single phrase. I gave it away, or tried, with a verbum sapienti, calling it a “detail” (“de-tail,” geddit?).

Thanks. I spotted that pun. Untranslatable play on words has been a problem for translators down the ages. In the Bible in English a play of words in the original Greek or Hebrew is often explained in a footnote.

[mwh]

Since translating such a composition completely ruins it, I have to wonder why you bother.

[jeidsath]

Well, the discussion and translation here helped me in understanding it, so I'm thankful for that. I thought typing it up that it was about a man who had lost his horse in the hunt. But your comment made a lot of sense.

If anyone here has read Anthony Trollope novels, they will have read a number of descriptions of fox hunts, and I wonder if the "hunting parson" description from Framley Parsonage(?) describes someone like Evans.

[mwh]

I’ve just finished Phineas Finn, which has a good little foxhunting scene in it. It’s clear that Trollope himself hunted, but did Evans? You wouldn’t know it from the poem. He comes over as a desk-bound scholar.
I’d have thought that even an accurate translation of a composition such as this could be more of a hindrance to understanding it than a help. A better route would be to get more familiar with classical Greek verse. We can’t hope to appreciate Evans’ compositions without first acquiring something of his familiarity with the language and the literature.

[dikaiopolis]

What a lovely poem!

It’s not actually in anacreontics (uu—x—u——), but in catalectic iambic dimeters (x—u—u——), like a good number of the poems in the miscellaneous collection known as the Anacreontea (not actually by Anacreon).

Doesn't it actually mix the two types of anacreontics (i.e., anaclastic ionic dimeters and hemiambs)? I see a few anaclastics: παρέχοι σφριγῶντα πῶλον, ὁμοθυμαδὸν Μολοσσαῖς, χλοερὰν πρέπει καθ’ ὕλην, κτλ. As far as I know, only a few poems in the Anacreontea mix types and they are usually dated late. Is that right?

[Anthony Appleyard]

Thanks again. But another query:

One line says "ἐπεὶ γελᾷ μὲν αἰθήρ,". This looks like "after the sky or the upper air laughs". Does this have some usual idiomatic or figurative meaning in Greek? "If the gods are willing"?

[jeidsath]

I don't know if there is another source to it, but "the laughing sky" is an English poetic phrase from the 19th century. Here is George Richards in 1804:

Again along the laughing sky
Shall morn her golden tresses fling;
Again midst warbled melody
Shall sweetly smile the rosy spring

And here is Alphaville in 2017:

You're doing wondrous things to me
That make me feel so high
They say you can have anything you want
Beyond the laughing sky

[mwh]

The meter. No it’s hemiambs throughout (2iaˆ, iambic dim. catalectic). Occasionally the opening anceps is resolved, that’s all—the two lines you quote, and just a few others. The crucial thing is that in x—u— the short is always short.

ἐπεὶ γελᾷ μὲν αἰθήρ “when the sky smiles” (or laughs). γελαν is sometimes used metaphorically like this. The base text is a scene in Iliad 19 when the army is marching out in shining bronze armor that glints in the sun: 362 αιγλη δ’ ουρανον ικε, γελασσε δε πασα περι χθων | χαλκου υπο στεροπου. There it’s the earth, here it’s the sky ("imitation with variation"), but the idea is the same. The armor there is matched by the scarlet coats here in the δε clause, which similarly shine in the sunlight.
Presumably there should be only a comma at the end of the previous line, not a full stop.
So to understand the poem we first have to know Homer along with the rest of Greek literature.

[dikaiopolis]

The meter. No it’s hemiambs throughout (2iaˆ, iambic dim. catalectic). Occasionally the opening anceps is resolved, that’s all—the two lines you quote, and just a few others. The crucial thing is that in x—u— the short is always short.

Yes, I imagine TS Evans thought of this piece as purely hemiambic. The problem is that in the Anacreontea (+ the short frs. of Anacreon in hemiambs) the initial anceps doesn't admit resolution (ever, I think). The collection separates the hemiambic poems from the anaclastic ion. dim. to a remarkable degree, even though the two types of anacreontics are so similar. I'm not sure I follow your second point. That same short (X — u —) is usually short in the anacl. ion. dim. poems (e.g., δοτε μοι λυρην Ομηρου/φονιης ανευθε χορδης).

As for the laughing sky, Quintus, drawing on the same Homeric image, has:

Ἠὼς δ’ Ὠκεανοῖο ῥόον καὶ λέκτρα λιποῦσα
Τιθωνοῦ προσέβη μέγαν οὐρανόν, ἀμφὶ δὲ πάντῃ
κίδνατο παμφανόωσα, γέλασσε δὲ γαῖα καὶ αἰθήρ·

[mwh]

I think you are right. The composers have combined two closely associated verse forms, the main one the regular hemiamb (x—u—u——), the other what is evidently regarded as a variant of it, uu—u—u——. At a rough count just 12 of the lines take this variant form. I was calling it a hemiamb with resolved anceps, but in this anacreontic context it could well be classified as an anaclastic ionic dimeter; the distinction between iambic and ionic has blurred severely by this point. Still, given the preponderance of the standard hemianb, I prefer to think of them all as 7-foot lines, admitting any one of three forms (short, long, double-short) for the first element; and you say you imagine that’s how the Evanses thought of them too.

Thanks for bringing more clarity to this. You probably know more about the Anacreontea than I do.

Quintus: great, the perfect intermediary!

[Hylander]

Has anyone read Quintus? I have a copy somewhere, but it's one text I haven't tackled, along with Nonnus. No sure my remaining years will be enough to get to either of them.

[Anthony Appleyard]

In Iliad 19: 362 "αιγλη δ’ ουρανον ικε, γελασσε δε πασα περι χθων | χαλκου υπο στεροπου", could "and all the earth around laughed/smiled", could "all Earth" here be short for "all people on Earth", and it could merely a hyperbolic way of saying that everyone in the Greek army's camp cheered at the sight?

I seem to remember that the verb root ͑ικ-"go, come, reach" was originally ͑ϝικ- ; if so, the poet ignoring the digamma in "ουρανον ͑ικε" is a sign of late composition for that bit of text.

[Timothée]

I seem to remember that the verb root ͑ικ-"go, some, reach" was originally ͑ϝικ-

It was originally *seik-, cognates seen in Lithuanian, Tocharian, and Germanic. But even if it did have a digamma, there’s only so much you can conclude from it.

[dikaiopolis]

Has anyone read Quintus? I have a copy somewhere, but it's one text I haven't tackled, along with Nonnus. No sure my remaining years will be enough to get to either of them.

Not too much; I wish I had more time for Quintus and other late ancient poetry. Some day! (I’m in the thick of preparing for Gk & Lat comps at the moment, so unfortunately there’s not much time to stray far from the center of the classical canon.) ὁ βίος βραχύς, ἡ δὲ τέχνη μακρή…

[Timothée]

What is the go-to text for Quintus? I know there’s the Budé (in three vol’s) from the 1960’s, which would appear to be okay.

[Hylander]

The editor of the Budé, Francis Vian, is generally well regarded, I believe. He also edited Apollonius and Nonnus. His edition of Apollonius is the "go-to" edition, if I'm not mistaken.

[Paul Derouda]

I read Apollonios in Vian's edition a few years back. I had nothing to complain about.

[mwh]

Vian’s Budés are excellent (though I have many quarrels with his Apollonius). For later Greek epic Livrea is the man. (He’s been retired a good while but still active I think; Vian died almost a decade ago at age 91.) I’ve dabbled a fair bit in Quintus and in Nonnus but haven’t read either of them all the way through, and neither of them is on my things to do before I die list.
Nonnus is amazing, technically supreme and thoroughly steeped in Homer and Homeric scholarship. Who would have thought that Upper Egypt had so vibrant a Greek culture in the 5th century? Cavafy admired him.

Musaeus (post-Nonnus) is more manageable, and I recommend him. Fun to read after Apollonius, or even coming direct from Homer. There’s an excellent Loeb edition by Thomas Gelzer, going far beyond the usual requirements of a Loeb. He was fantastically popular in the Renaissance (mistaken at first for the legendary archaic Musaeus), and inspired Byron to emulate Leander’s cross-channel swim.
Here’s the first three lines, to whet your appetite. Not to everyone’s taste, I know.
Εἰπέ, θεά, κρυφίων ἐπιμάρτυρα λύχνον ἐρώτων
καὶ νύχιον πλωτῆρα θαλασσοπόρων ὑμεναίων
καὶ γάμον ἀχλυόεντα, τὸν οὐκ ἴδεν ἄφθιτος Ἠώς,

On the Latin side I’ve recently been greatly taken with Statius’ Thebaid, and have read the whole thing. I put it off for the longest time because I hate the Silvae, but I enjoyed the Achilleid and moved on to the Thebaid (admittedly under the impulse of a papyrus commentary on what I take to be Antimachus’ Thebaid). If you like lush pull out all the stops stuff, try it. Expect to recognize Vergil (whom you have to know), but don’t expect Vergil.