The Tardy Cherub
Cupid snoozed—his alarm betrayed, Wings askew, his bow mislaid. Love showed up a moment late, Blushing, breathless, tempting fate. Turns out hearts still fell just fine— Even tardy arrows hit on time.
The Frogs
CHARON. Now stretch your arms full length before you.
DIONYSUS. So?
CHAR. Come, don’t keep fooling; plant your feet, and now
Pull with a will.
DIO. Why, how am I to pull? I’m not an oarsman, seaman,
Salaminian. I can’t!
CHAR. You can. Just dip your oar in once, You’ll hear the loveliest timing songs.
DIO. What from?
CHAR. Frog-swans, most wonderful.
DIO. Then give the word.
CHAR. Heave ahoy! heave ahoy!
FROGS. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax! Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax!
We children of the fountain and the lake,
Let us wake
Our full choir-shout, as the flutes are ringing out,
Our symphony of clear-voiced song.
The song we used to love, in the
Marshland up above, In praise of
Dionysus to produce,
Of Nysaean Dionysus, son of Zeus,
When the revel-tipsy throng, all crapulous and gay,
To our precinct reeled along on the holy Pitcher day.
Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.
DIO. O, dear! O, dear! now I declare I’ve got a bump upon my rump.
FR. Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax.
— Aristophanes (c.448 B.C.–c.388 B.C.). “The Frogs” in The Harvard Classics
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