Ares

God of war, courage, and order; protector. Our modern image of him is quite negative due to our main source of Greek mythology centering on Athens, Sparta's rival city-state. Ares was much beloved in Sparta.

Epithets

• Thêritas: Brutish
• Hippios: Of the Horses
• Aphneios: Abundant
• Gynaikothoinas: Feasted by Women

Offerings

• Bronze weapons, including miniatures
• Shields, including miniatures
• Armor, including miniatures
• Frankincense

Prayers and Hymns

“Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden- helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, Saviour of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the spear, O defence of Olympus, father of warlike Victory, ally of Themis, stern governor of the rebellious, leader of righteous men, sceptred King of manliness, who whirl your fiery sphere among the planets in their sevenfold courses through the aether wherein your blazing steeds ever bear you above the third firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of dauntless youth! Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of my soul. Restrain also the keen fury of my heart which provokes me to tread the ways of blood-curdling strife. Rather, O blessed one, give you me boldness to abide within the harmless laws of peace, avoiding strife and hatred and the violent fiends of death.”

-Homeric Hymn to Ares

“Divinely-born gods! Hear now as I pour forth libations for blessings upon our kindred. Never may the wanton lord of war, insatiate of battle-cry, Ares, who reaps a human harvest in alien fields, (your request here) and cast a vote in my favor, suppliants in the name of Zeus. Therefore let there fly forth from our overshadowed lips a prayer of gratitude. Never may pestilence empty this city of its men nor strife stain the soil of the land with the blood of slain inhabitants. But may the flower of its youth be unplucked, and may Ares, the partner of Aphrodite’s bed, he who makes havoc of men, not shear off their bloom. And let no murderous havoc come upon the realm to ravage it, by arming Ares–foe to the dance and lute, parent of tears–and the shout of civil strife.”

-Aeschylus,The Suppliant Women