The term lyric (from Greek lyrikos) was first coined in the Hellenistic period to describe poetry that was sung, usually accompanied by a stringed instrument such as the lyre (Lesky 1996, 108). It appears that such poetry consisted not merely of song and music, but dance as well (much like traditional flamenco), and that this combination of voice, music, and movement was used in religious rituals. Such was the case with another form of Greek poetry—drama (see below).
By the time this poetry was written down starting in the seventh century b. c.e., two distinct forms of lyric existed: choral and monody. Choral, like modern choruses, was sung in groups. Monody {mono = one, oidos = song) was what we might think of as a more traditional song, sung by one individual in one voice. There were subdivisions within these two categories, based on what each poem was meant to express. For the choral category, there was the threnos, a dirge for the dead; the hymnaion, a wedding song; the prosodion, a processional song; the paian, originally a hymn to Apollo but later a hymn to other gods as well; and, one of our earliest recorded forms, the parthenaion, or maiden song, sung by choruses of young girls in competition. In the sixth century b. c.e., the epinikion and enkomion were added, poems that praised athletic victors and their families {Barnstone 1988, 3). Back in ancient Greece, having such a poem written about one by a great poet such as Pindar was great public recognition.
All choral pieces had certain common characteristics. The first was use of elaborate language, with elements of the Doric dialect {see chapter 6). The poems were arranged in series of paired and metrically identical stanzas, one spoken by one half of the chorus—the strophe, and the other by the other half—the antistrophe. Finally, all choral odes had certain consistent features of content. First, there was a myth retold or referred to. Then, there was an opinion or maxim, the gnome. Finally, there was the personal element, in which the dead was remembered or the victor hailed {Barnstone 1988, 4; Lesky 1996, 148-149).
According to Hellenistic scholars, the great choral poets were Alcman, Stesichorus, Ibycus, Simonides, Bacchylides, and Pindar {Lesky 1996, 108). Alcman, who lived in the mid-seventh century b. c.e., is the earliest for whom we have recovered any written poetry. He is most famous for his Maidens' Songs, performed by troupes of young girls, possibly subdivided into two "rival" groups. In one of his remaining poems, the entire choir begins with a truism:
There is a vengeance of the gods,
But he is blissful, whoever is wise,
Weaves out his days tearless.
From here, the two groups divide, headed by the group leaders Agido and Ha-gesikhora. The song ends with the whole chorus singing again in unison, praising their own talents.
Pindar, who lived in the fifth century b. c.e., left us more writings than almost all of the other poets. His Nemean, Olympian, Isthmean, and Pythian odes are enkomia and epinikia to the victors of the Panhellenic games. Following is an excerpt from his eleventh Olympian ode to a Lokrian named Hagesi-damos who won at boxing:
Free of envy is the praise dedicated to Olympic victors. Our tongue
Wishes to cherish such themes,
But from a god a man blossoms in mental skills as well.
Know now, child of Arkhestratos,
Hagesidamos, on account of your boxing
I shall celebrate loudly in sweet song the adornment
Of your crown with golden olive,
Giving heed to the race of Zephyrian Lokris.
Then let us revel! I shall pledge,
O Muses, neither people inhospitable nor
Ignorant of beautiful things will you meet,
But those of high wisdom and wieldy with spears.
For neither shining fox nor
Roaring lions might change their innate natures.
Monody was a personal kind of poetry, often expressing the poet's own thoughts and feelings and presented in the company of close associates. In form, these poems were composed of short, repeated stanza patterns (Barn-stone 1988, 5). In type, they included skolia—drinking songs sung at symposia (see chapter 6), personal reflections and prayers, and iambic and elegy. These final two were categorized differently than traditional lyric, probably because they either were not sung or were accompanied by flute rather than stringed instruments. Iambic poetry (see the "Meter" sidebar) was often used to express mockery, satire, abuse, or polemic. The meter itself was thought of as innately obscene or harsh. According to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, it was named for a scullery maid who made Demeter laugh by telling her dirty jokes or, in other versions, flashing her.
The elegy consists of repeated combinations of a dactylic hexameter and pentameter (see the "Meter" sidebar). This form had a wide range of uses. At the most frivolous, it could be used for skolia (drinking songs) at the symposia. On a more serious note, it was used for military harangues and epitaphs, and, following logically from there, laments.
The Hellenistic Greeks recorded that the greatest monodic lyric poets were Alcaeus, Sappho, and Anacreon (Lesky 1996, 108). To these we must add the earliest iambic poet, Archilochus. Archilochus, who lived around the early seventh century b. c.e., is sometimes seen as the inventor of the monodic spirit, placing himself personally into his verses. He was definitely a unique character. The illegitimate son of a nobleman and a slave, he led his life as a colonist and mercenary. He is famous for his rejection of the warrior ideal presented in the works of Homer, especially that Spartan ideal of coming home either with one's shield (victorious) or on it (dead). Quite to the contrary, one of his most famous poems, elegiac in form, claims:
Someone of the Thracians delights in my shield, which I abandoned by a bush, blameless, unwillingly;
I saved myself then. What do I care for this shield?
To heck with it! I'll get another one just as good.
In contrast to the "masculine" obsessions with militarism and politics, Sappho of Lesbos wrote her lyrics about love, although often employing military allusions. Her one complete poem, "To Aphrodite," was preserved in a work of Dionysios of Halicarnassus as an example of "perfect" poetry:
Ornate-throned, immortal Aphrodite Child of Zeus, while-weaving, I beseech you, do not, with ache and anguish overwhelm,
Mistress, my heart.
But, come here, if ever before hearing my prayers from afar listening, leaving your father's house of gold, you came.
On a yoked chariot, beautiful swift sparrows brought you on fluttering wings to the dark earth from heaven through the middle air.
Quickly you came. And you, O blessed one,
Smiling on your immortal face,
Asked on what account I am suffering again, and
On what account was I summoning again,
And what did I want most in my raving heart to happen.
"Whom do I persuade on this account to lead you back to her dearest love?
Who, O Sappho, wrongs you?
For if she flees, soon will she follow;
And if she does not receive gifts, then she will give.
And if she does not love, soon she will love even if she does not wish it."
Come to me now, release me from this grievous care!
What my heart desires to come to pass, make happen. and you yourself be my ally.
It was such references to what appeared to be Sappho's erotic love for other females that led to the modern term lesbian for female homosexuality (Sappho lived on the isle of Lesbos). However, the exact context of any of Sappho's poetry, or that of any other female poet, is still in debate. Some have argued that Sappho was a priestess of Aphrodite and that her poems were sung in religious rituals. Others have suggested that she was a teacher in some manner of "finishing school" and the girls she refers to were her students. Another possibility is that woman got together in their own symposia just like men and shared each other's company and voices. Such might be the case for the Boio-tian poet Corinna, who tells us:
Terpsichora bids me to sing lovely things to the white-robed women of Tanagra; and the city greatly rejoices in my clear-twittering voice.
It was possibly the female lyricists who gave rise to a style popular in Hellenistic times—the epigram. These were originally brief verses put on grave markers to commemorate the dead. This practice, combined with the sentiments of elegy, produced an art form in its own right. An elegant example of the high art, and even philosophy, of this style comes from the Hellenistic Arcadian poet Anyte, who wrote of a slave:
Alive, this man was Manes, a common slave.
Dead, even great Darius is not his peer.
(Translation by Barnstone 1988, 186)
Slightly less sublime, but certainly honest, is an epigram by Callimachus, a Hellenistic poet from Cyrene in northern Africa. In his "Epitaph of an Enemy," he writes:
Passerby, do not wish me well with your sour heart.
Go away. And I shall be well by your being gone.
(Translation by Barnstone 1988, 188)