Praise of Peace - Bacchylides

To mortal men Peace giveth these good things:
Wealth, and the flowers of honey-throated song;
      The flame that springs
On carven altars from fat sheep and kine,
Slain to the gods in heaven; and, all day long.
Games for glad youths, and flutes, and wreaths, and circling wine.
Then in the steely shield swart spiders weave
      Their web and dusky woof:
Rust to the pointed spear and sword doth cleave;
The brazen trump sounds no alarms;
Nor is sleep harried from our eyes aloof,
But with sweet rest my bosom warms:
The streets are thronged with lovely men and young.
And hymns in praise of boys like flames to heaven are flung.

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Bacchylides (450 BC) Greece
Translated by J. A. Symonds
Source: Greek poets in English verse by Various Translators, Edited by William Hyde Appleton, Houghton, Mifflin & Co, 1893