Philicus' hymn to Demeter

Philicus, or Philikos, of Corcyra was a poet and tragedian, as well as a priest of Dionysos at Alexandria in the reign of Ptolemy II Philadelphus (285-246 BC). Sadly, nothing survives of the 24 tragedies attributed to him. Philicus, however, did write a Hymn to Demeter in choriambic hexameters which has been partially preserved on a stone slab. Unlike Horeric and Orphic hymns, this was not a cult song. It was an exercise in poetry.

The hymn is focussed on the cult of Demeter, which was very popular at the time. It narrates some part of Demeter’s search for Persephone, and told how the earth was rendered unfruitful. It also tells the story of how bashful Iambe made the Goddess laugh and lifted her grief off of her.

It seems that the first part of the hymn was a speech by a fellow Goddess. Whom this is, is unclear. It could be Peitho (Persuasion), who consoles Demeter, forecasts the institution of the Eleusinian Mysteries, and offers her assistance in recovering Persephone from the underworld. But more likely it's the oracular Titan Dione. She is sister of Rhea, Zeus’ mother. Her inclusion would fit the mythology and various lines. There is, however, no evidence for a close connexion of Dione with Demeter, and therefore no reason why she should intercede in this poem on Demeter’s behalf.

I am very intrigued by poetry fragments or obscure pieces like this and greatly enjoy reading them. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Philicus' hymn to Demeter

this of the daughter

mother child not

chariot of writhing [snakes

and where (she?) has gone away to

clo?hes predator

torches wood

like a tunic her wrap

.....

to him the girl

fortune nor marriage

to speak

heaven

wandering to a run

words such as these

feet; did you not see

... ...

to me ...

gaping

was thrown without order

and the hot beam was burning upon

and the goddess, beginning to speak first,

I judged in an omen of victory

listen to prayers that are from a sister from the same mother

]in the same womb I nurtured Cypris

I was desirable when I gave my milk to you, and I, of the same stock as your mother

us(?) mighty ladies a common father begat

and she gave birth to mighty-boasting violence

a destined possession; and for me to persuade

to have share in this, and not from me alone my

not failing to hearken to these words, and the goddesses will reward(?) you

for we, I alone, with the Graces, have been announced as to give honour

have been apportioned, but you should accept other honours from us

and greater ones in return for what is a small one--these I shall tell you in detail.

for to none will a friend accord more than to you, and I shall love more and more

in the season(?) to Eleusis with the mystic coursings of the Iacchoi

large [] welcoming the faster by the waves in large numbers

they will swell out for you, nurturing one, perfumed branches

a single fountain water marked out for each

by this two-throned precinct with your tears you will send up a spring

will be called the royal fountain

than these words we shall accord in honour more powerful deeds

do not prematurely take them as untrustworthy before testing

the branches of supplication they bear now

these again will pour forth

to be performed as a ritual at your festival

zealous ... overcome

taking up the sceptre bring Persephone up to where there are stars

with me leading you shall not go wrong at all.

but pick up the torches, relax your heavy brow."

She ceased, and the nymphs and Graces joined in just Persuasion,

and whole swarms of women in a circle about her caressed the ground with their foreheads

and gathered the only living growth from the cropless earth to cast as foliage upon the goddess

But Halimous dispatched the old woman, who had lost her way in the mountain haunts, but arrived at a good time

as a result of some chance: for solemn occasions can an amusing tale be unprofitable?

For she stood and uttered at once in a bold, loud voice: “Do not throw goat-fodder:

it is not this that is a remedy for a starving god, but ambrosia is the support for such a delicate stomach.

But you, divine one, should give ear to Attic Iambe's little benefit;

I am one who has poured out unschooled words, as well as might a chattering living in a distant deme: these goddesses

her [  ] for you cups and garlands and water drawn in a fresh stream;

and from the women, look!, there is grass as a gift, a timorous deer's diet.

None of these things do I have for my gift: but if you loosen up your grieving, then I shall release…”