ut- 
 
 ■ 

 
 WH 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 

 
 ^ 

 
 RHYME AND REASON.
 
 thl'JTLD BY 7'. PLUM74EU, SEETU1K&-J.ANE.
 
 RHYME vdJVD RE^SOJY; 
 
 BQM :"j _..;:":! PMMb 
 
 IttCatwni GrtTiate jocuro tenu^ta. 
 
 H«ur. Ait Poet.- 
 
 IMITATtO. 
 
 He hopes that hitfumiHar »tyle, 
 hUr {with Jcc jnjra; raise a taile. 
 
 lokdox; 
 
 Printed/* tnd told If 
 
 BLACKS AVD FAERY, LEADIX BALL-STRUT. 
 
 1803.
 
 VSrt 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Lest the ungentle Reader should 
 think the Author of the following 
 Poems too arrogant in assuming a 
 I in to ' Reason' in his Rh) 
 it may be necessary to state the 
 Writer's own Ideas on the Subject : 
 — By annexing the term Reason, he 
 presumes to say, that he has en- 
 deavoured to put some meaning 
 into his Verses; whether it he 
 good, bad, or indifferent.
 
 VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Question to be decided by the 
 candid Critic alone. The Writer 
 is not .without hope that iiis gentle 
 Readers who are conversant with 
 modern Poetry (as it is termed 
 most courteously) will thank him 
 for his attempt to combine Rhyme 
 and Reason, on the Score of No- 
 velty. The Author declares openly 
 to Critics of all Descriptions, that 
 he is not so courteous to himself 
 as to think that his Poems have 
 the smallest Claim to the Title of 
 Poetry. With respect to the 
 .Familiarity of his style, the Author 
 deems no Apology necessary, as
 
 ADVERTISEME.ST. VU 
 
 slip shod Muses, and other Ladies 
 en dhhabillcy or, in plain English, 
 half dressed, are at prcscut tlie 
 i or Kage.
 
 THE IXTKODUCTTON. 
 
 TIS true, no doubt, in antient timr s 
 No temple to tbe god of rhymes 
 Wu built, or thought of, and the bard, 
 When he percci\'d bis task was hard, 
 Pray'd, in a voice so sad and hollow. 
 For the assistance of Apollo, 
 As he could shine as well as writ 
 And on his subject throw some light ; 
 But now a-days, since jingling rhyme 
 Supplies the pathos and sublime, 
 We pen an epic, or a rebus, 
 Without one single prayer to Phoebus ; 
 For modern poetry is wrought 
 Quite independently of thought.
 
 2 
 
 And most commodiously it made is 
 To suit those beaus who read to ladies ; 
 And also suits as well we know 
 The lady-writer, and the beau. 
 But should these rhymes appear, forsooth, 
 By reason clogg'd, and seem uncouth, 
 I promise, in my second tome, 
 To place my readers more at home, 
 And scorning what is out of season, 
 Rhyme for the future without reason, 
 And be, to suit the reigning folly, 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 
 TO
 
 TO MY MUSE. 
 
 Ooistle Muse, whom every bard 
 
 It forc'd by custom to invokt , 
 And to solicit your regard. 
 
 Whether in earnest or in jok«-, 
 Visit me now — but let no cloud, 
 
 Mysterious, hover o'er your brow, 
 No pomp of words your meaning shrowd, 
 
 But gently smile as I do now : 
 
 Cone not alarm'd, as just escap'd 
 From German spectre-seeing praters 
 
 But laughing at the stones ap'd 
 By bungling English imitators : 
 a 3
 
 Nor come inspir'd by gin or brandy, 
 Like him, who penn'd the crazy tales, 
 
 Who with his brother, Tristram Shandy, 
 Measur'd his wit in Fontaine's scales : 
 
 Approach not with that soft grimace 
 
 Of little misses and young masters, 
 Who coo'd so long sans wit or grace, 
 
 As Della-Crusa poetasters : 
 Nor like that mock pindaric scribe, 
 
 Who by himself is nick-nam'd Peter, 
 The most audacious of this tribe, 
 
 The punch and mountebank of metre 
 
 Nor yet, O. Muse, the cypress wear, 
 
 Like some sad sonnetteering elf, 
 With many a sigh and many a tear, 
 
 And so much feeling — for yourself : 
 Be yours to raise the harmless smile, 
 
 And leave to laureats the sublime ; 
 To hint to other bards the while, 
 
 That reason is the soul of rhyme
 
 TO THE I'KOFESSIONJL CRITIC. 
 
 (J rave sirs, ! hope you will endure 
 My patient labour at a rhyim- ; 
 
 in is not to be obscurr, 
 My caution, not to be sublime. 
 
 I know full oft before your eyes 
 
 me lines too knotty to unravel; 
 How often did I sympathize - 
 
 Wuh all your sorrows and your travail, 
 
 Seeking for meanings sans success, 
 
 Fishing in sullen discontent. 
 Now quite despairing e'en to guess 
 At what the writer should have meant. 
 a i
 
 <> 
 
 I shall not (or myself I flatter) 
 
 Your judgments for a moment rack ; 
 
 Upon the face so plain my matter, 
 You'll give a verdict in a crack. 
 
 ON
 
 OS BEING DESIRED TO WRITE 
 POETRY. 
 
 Were matchless Shakespeare seldom read, 
 
 \\vr< Milton's page but little known, 
 What might have come into my head 
 I cannot really say, I own. 
 
 I might have aim'd to be a poet. 
 And like some other bards, perhaps, 
 
 Hoping my readers would not know it, 
 ll.i.r hv'don choice Miakesperian scraps. 
 
 A verse Milumu might have wrought. 
 Will squar'd with learning's line and rule, 
 
 Proud by the critics to be thought 
 A boy in the Miltonic school. 
 
 ■ 4
 
 8 
 
 To thefts of every kind a foe, 
 I hate these imitative strains, 
 
 For learned poems serve to show 
 At once our poverty and pains. 
 
 ON
 
 g 
 
 ON BEING URGED TO WRITE SA1 
 
 Let satire's javelins be hurl'd 
 By men ambitious to be sage, 
 
 Who are in baste to quit the world 
 In quest of some lone hermitage. 
 
 The coxcomb and the gay coquet 
 
 In me no acrid bile ex< 
 I feel quite unprovok'd, as j 
 
 By follies, which such crowds ifl 
 
 Rascals of all kinds to bespat Iff 
 Is much above a rhyming fit ; 
 
 Such fellows care do mdre for satire 
 Than blockheads relish sterling wit.
 
 10 
 
 As a man cannot chuse his neighbour 
 'Tis best to take the peaceful side, 
 
 And 'tis much worse than losing labour 
 To have one's labour misapply'd. 
 
 The best of satires are- the laws 
 
 Abounding in most wholesome samples, 
 Which will support fair virtue's cause 
 
 By making bad men good examples. 
 
 The judge is the best satirist, 
 
 (More potent he than all the nine,) 
 
 Who looking at the sheriff's list, 
 'Twixt vice and virture draws a line. 
 
 TO
 
 II 
 
 TO THE SHADE OF COWPER. 
 
 Midas, to poets sung of old, 
 
 Could turn each thing he touch'd to gold; 
 
 Full oft he tryd this art bewitching 
 
 On the utensils of his kiuh. n. 
 
 And every earthen vessel shone 
 
 As bright and yellow as the sun : 
 
 So Cowper's magi-chiinii line. 
 
 Whatever the subject, makes it shine, 
 
 And oft confers celestial birth 
 
 Upon the vilest things on earth. 
 
 On yonder sofa see his place, 
 
 With all the poet in his face ; 
 
 What dignity be still can keep, 
 
 Where other bards would (all asleep. 
 
 Hark to his grand yet simple lays, 
 
 Such as a Milton's self would praise :
 
 Let others yet beware the while, 
 "Who dare to imitate his style, 
 And void of all poetic gleams 
 Write vulgarly on vulgar themes, 
 Avoid the task which Cowper knew 
 He could with ease and honour do, 
 But what to many a modern bard, 
 Must prove most perilous and hard. 
 
 TO
 
 
 to n Arris 
 
 Am, with what a wild-goose cbace. 
 
 Ideal Queen! do men pursue, 
 Thus seeking you in every place, 
 
 Alas! and never rinding you. 
 Some seek you, mid the clamours rude 
 Of lucre vile and mad ambition. 
 Soon wearied of their sad condition, 
 Search you in deepest solitude — 
 Where left unheeded and unknown, 
 In doleful sonnets pine and groan. 
 
 Others, in beauty's venal charm* 
 
 Seek thee, and some applaud the lot 
 Of him, who, from the dire alarms 
 Attendant upon pomp and pn<l»-, 
 In a cold, dull, and clay-built cot. 
 Will ever and for ay abide : 
 t some, more sober, hope to find 
 You seated only in the mind.
 
 14 
 
 A butcher, once, with too much zeal 
 To cut his mutton, beef, or veal, 
 Hurrying, he could not, for his life, 
 Find that grand utensil — his knife : 
 Now with slow pace, now with a hop, 
 
 Searching each corner, north and south, 
 And every cranny in his shop, 
 He found the necessary gear, 
 O gentle reader — guess you where- 
 in his own mouth ! 
 
 THE
 
 ]b 
 
 THE USE OF FJBLES, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO SOME MODERN PEDANTS. 
 
 Tis well contriv'd, on yEsop's plan, 
 That all unwilling or unable, 
 
 To use the reason of a man. 
 Should be instructed by a fable : 
 
 When Bruin talks, well pleas'd we hear 
 The speaker growl, and own the bear, 
 Nor ever take the least offence 
 Where surliness is join'd to sense : 
 The monkey's tricks, the lion's roar, 
 The fox's craft, the tusks of boar, 
 Are parts, in silent expectation, 
 We look for in tktir con versa 
 But when, alas ! in human shape, 
 A speaker quadrupeds will ape,
 
 16 
 
 And learned pigs will grunting speak 
 Their sentences of sputtering greek, 
 Ambitious of the characters 
 Of Bentley and of Scaligers, 
 Instructing none, offending all, 
 On iEsop's gentle shade I call, 
 That he these biped beasts would teach 
 The real properties of speech. 
 
 Otf
 
 17 
 
 ON MRS. RADCLIFFE'S RthMAXCES. 
 
 Qvzi* of ideal terrors, hail! 
 I love the dark mysterious tale, 
 
 And phantoms of affright ; 
 Terrors which never do me harm, 
 Rut such as keep my heart's-blood warm. 
 
 Amid the winter's night. 
 
 Whilst meaner souls, t' inspire fear, 
 The dagger and the bowl prepare, 
 
 So prodigal of lives, 
 Radciife, who marks with wild dismay 
 The bloodless tenor of her way, 
 
 From fancy all her power derives.
 
 18 
 
 Hurry'd towards a precipice 
 By her dread magic in a trice, 
 
 I feel and lose my pain — 
 E'er that the shuddering fit comes on, 
 The horrific scenery is gone 
 
 Lo, a green level plain ! 
 
 ON
 
 ON THE BIRTH DAT OF A GIRL OF 
 EIGHT l'EJRS OLD. 
 
 How tweet are youthful fancy's dreams f 
 The blossoms of our early day ; 
 
 The sweetest of the Poet's themes ' 
 Is hope, for ever young and gay. 
 
 To you, Maria, now belong 
 
 The active jump, the graceful trip, 
 
 The sportive tale, the mad-cap song, 
 The laughter-loving eye and lip. 
 
 Ah ! may you still remain the same, 
 When many a merry year has fled ; 
 
 And when, alas ! your Poet's name 
 Shall only on his tomb be read ; 
 
 c *
 
 20 
 
 Then may you say, ah! well I ween, 
 These simple lines were made for me ; 
 
 The same, as once each daily scene, 
 Alike my laugh, my trip, and glee. 
 
 ON
 
 SI 
 
 OS BOASTERS OF ISDEPESDE.W I . 
 
 How oft I bave known some fool or knav« 
 Of Independence storm and roar, 
 He'd live with base mankind no more. 
 
 But <juick return to acorns and a cave. 
 
 All this was very fine — 
 
 His Grace once ask'd the man to dine- ; 
 
 The love of Freedom is unstable : 
 Cato now lives like other folks. 
 Proud to repeat his patron's jokes, 
 
 And oftener the praises of his table. 
 
 So have I seen in some foul stream, 
 
 A wriggling leach 
 So very independent seem, 
 
 Twisting and 'scaping from your reach ; 
 c 8
 
 m 
 
 Till canght, and to the jowl apply 'd 
 Of some fat alderman, 
 He loves the comfortable plan ;. 
 And soon forgets, without a sigh, 
 His wai'ry fare and Liberty.. 
 
 THE
 
 THE POWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 HINT TO SOME riNE COMrOSER*. 
 
 There are tome high proud harmonies, 
 Vast favourite* with the learn'd and wwe, 
 
 I'd rather hear my knell ; 
 They are to difficult to play, 
 And to conceive, would wella-day, 
 
 They were impossible : 
 
 But when I hear melodious sounds, 
 With what quick joys my bosom bounds 
 
 Symphonious to the strains ; 
 Such aa can boast the gentle art, 
 With ease to captivate the heart, 
 
 And not torment the brain*, 
 e 4
 
 24 
 
 Wrapt into visions of delight, 
 What scenes allure my giddy sight, 
 
 What castles in the air ! 
 Orpheus, who, by his magic song, 
 Drew stones of mighty size along, 
 
 llais'd buildings not so fair. 
 
 How transient my delight appears, 
 The last note vibrates on my ears, 
 
 Now silent is the strain : 
 Like poor Aladin now 1 moan 
 Td find my palaces are gone, 
 
 And ' weep to dream again/ 
 
 A HINT
 
 A HIST TO MODEUX SOSSETTEERS. 
 
 Break this Italian bondage, brother bards, 
 This octave rhyme must gall like Newgate 
 fetters ; 
 
 And who the burden of your toil regards — 
 No man of real sense, or taste in letters. 
 
 Our language, fill'd with consonants so rough, 
 Scorn this eternal yoke of jingling rhymes; 
 
 Ijttiim, indeed, can alwavs find enough, 
 
 Their As, and Is, and Os, ring merry chimes. 
 
 1 marvel not to see your lines so tad. 
 But surely this is volunteering grief. 
 
 To hunt for sounds that rarely can be had— 
 But be my counsel, as it should be, b.
 
 26 
 
 Crave tho' ye be, ye are not ' wed to woe/ 
 You must rejoice from one ill to be free; 
 
 Adopt our elegies' majestic flow, 
 And write alternate verse with ease like me. 
 
 OJV
 
 ON CERTAIN GERMAN TRAGEDIES. 
 
 1* spite of wisdom and the schools, 
 
 Writers who are half knaves and fools, 
 
 In their new singled schemes of morals, 
 
 Twixt words and meanings stir up quarrels. 
 
 Philanthropy we know is meant 
 
 To signify a sentiment 
 
 Of the best feelings of the mind 
 
 In favour of all human kind : 
 
 With a distinction plain and nice 
 
 Between a virtue and a vice : 
 
 But when the foul adulteress 
 
 Demands our pity in distress; 
 
 When robbers claim our admiration, 
 
 By actions full of consternation, 
 
 And make by horrid scenes our frart 
 
 The sacred fountain of our tears ;
 
 The Bow-street runners must supply 
 Tbreatric heroes, wet and dry; 
 The stage shall heroines retain, 
 From the chaste realms of Drury-lane, 
 Whilst maids of honour near them plac'd, 
 Complying with the public taste, 
 O'er Polly Peachum's foibles sigh, 
 And own the force of sympathy. 
 
 THE
 
 THE HERMITS CONFESSIOS. 
 
 PeftVKRSEof mind, of humour crusty, 
 This dark and snug retreat I chum ; 
 
 With chairs antique, and volumes musty, 
 I wish to act the sage recluse. 
 
 Empty*d my purse by vice and folly, 
 And driven from the haunts of men, 
 
 I feel a pride in melancholy, 
 And solace in this lonely den. 
 
 Ah, vanity! my ruling passion, 
 That lead my gay and heedless feet 
 
 Adown the slippery paths of fashion, 
 Still chears me in this low retreat.
 
 30 
 
 E'en now ray froward heart is panting 
 Here to attract the gaping crowd ; 
 
 Alas ! with every motive wanting, 
 
 Still, still ray fluttering heart is proud. 
 
 ON
 
 ON READING A BOOK ON THE RIGHTS 
 OF WOMEN. 
 
 Fair advocate! t mark thy page, 
 The wonder of this wond'rous age ; 
 When, strange to tell, the meerest oaf 
 Subscribes himself « Hilonphe, 
 And the cotnplcatest fool in nature 
 Turns suddenly a legislator. 
 Must woman, lovely woman, then, 
 Be metamoTphos'd like the men! 
 Lose their soft smiles and winning graces, 
 Assume right philosophic faces — 
 Their genius and their learning prove 
 By metaphysic tracts on love, 
 And argue from the stoic school? 
 That amorous Strephons all are fcols;
 
 32 
 
 That reason guides each act of life, 
 And binds the husband and the wife, 
 And keeps each lovers' mind in awe 
 Better than wholesome codes of law : 
 Shall woman, now so grave and wise, 
 Pluck off the bandage from the eyes 
 Of Cupid and the Cyprian charmer, 
 Array in bold Minerva's armour ? 
 "What will become of simpering beaus, 
 Of diamond rings and gawdy cloaths ; 
 Lovers must die of grief and fright 
 Should Cupid see and Venus fight; 
 Poor girls in maidenhood must tarry 
 Till great philosophers would marry. 
 
 ON
 
 33 
 
 0.V ZIMMERMAN'S BOOK ON SOLITUDE. 
 
 Or men of genius, such the natures, 
 
 They raise a plenteous crop of fools. 
 Ambitious to be imitators 
 
 Of conduct far beyond all rules — 
 Blockheads who read you, Zimmerman, 
 
 With notions inrimt. ly crude, 
 Begin to meditate a plan 
 
 Of being (bod of Solitude. 
 
 Men of deep minds, indeed the few, 
 In the soft thade of calm sec lu*. ion, 
 gawdy panorama i 
 Luow the optical d
 
 34 
 
 But fools, like cucumbers, incline 
 
 Their green beads to the hottest sun- 
 Delighted, as they cannot shine, 
 To feel themselves thus shone upon. 
 
 ON
 
 35 
 
 V PYJUMIDS. 
 
 Oh, had those squanderers of lime, 
 And labour, and more precious time,. 
 
 Apply "d them to some use ; 
 \\ bat, tbo' the buddings are full tall, 
 And at the bottom wide withal I, 
 
 They had not lack'd excuse: 
 
 Had th«y been built that men might spy 
 More accurately the starry sky, 
 
 Or sav'd some gugliug springs 
 From the lun's fierce absorbing ray, 
 Or lodg'd t! lar on his way, 
 
 1 then bad prais'd these things. 
 
 j> 2
 
 36 
 
 1 fear it never will be known 
 U hy these monstrosities of stone 
 
 Thus rear their heads on high ; 
 Since so much learned ink is spilt, 
 Not in rejoicing they were built, 
 
 But all in wondering why. 
 
 ON
 
 37 
 
 OY FT,.4TTK1Ur. 
 
 A IIIXT TO TOUXO LADIES. 
 
 Flattert, no doubt, is »wwt, 
 Not ivcelei to the tongue is hoi: 
 Or to the miser's band new money, 
 
 Or flannel to bis gouty 
 
 The nrind, by flattery sedue'd, 
 And the weak stomach honey fed, 
 Urows feeble, by the taste misled, 
 
 To wholesome viands long m 
 
 All single ladies who arc p: 
 tin* bad drug are w<-ll 
 battering swains on every side, 
 Both in the country and ibl
 
 38 
 
 Marriage, that plain and wholesome dibli, 
 A dish that always is in season, 
 When serv'd up at the feast of reason. 
 
 Makes pamper'd gay coquets cry " Pish." 
 
 'Till a weak frame, by paint subdu'd, 
 A meagre waist, a sickly air, 
 Against all flattery declare 
 
 How flatulent, how poor the food. 
 
 ON
 
 ON RE J DING NOVELS. 
 
 Oft have I heard a blockhead prate— 
 1 I read no novels — you'll excuse, 
 Hut fur the Grecian, tragic muse, 
 I own my taste for the sublime: 
 JO novels are a trash I hate, 
 
 Asa ujo»t • l.il-ii-ii waste of time/ 
 
 But wise men talk not in this tone 
 Of Fielding and of Richardson ; 
 But are rejoie'd to see again 
 Their own remarks so well ex p rest, 
 And all the items of their brai° 
 In wit and humour gaily drest. 
 
 D 4
 
 40 
 
 Yet blockheads, by a false pretence, 
 Conceal their want of common sense, 
 And plenteous lack of observation, 
 Too dull to be by wit amus'd, 
 By self conceit too much abus'd, 
 To dream of any information. 
 
 AMONG
 
 J MONO Ml' ' REM1\ 
 
 Vov lady so civil and l 
 
 How alter'd her manmrs and uii ! 
 I mneml « r, long past is tin 
 
 That A i. ue was as cruel as fair. 
 
 My friend Damon by day and by night, 
 
 Id sonnets would coo like a do . 
 He has been man y '<i .1 - .ir, and the wight 
 *• talks ..ot — now thinks not, ot lo\e. 
 
 Jack Scribble, for wealth and a name, 
 An author's sad taA undertook; 
 
 1 ii>"rt «l; 1 and fame- 
 
 He has written and publish'd a book!
 
 4<J 
 
 Each fair one an angel, forsooth, 
 I was once young enough to believe ; 
 
 But ■experience has taughi, me a truth, 
 That each woman's — a daughter of Eve. 
 
 OiV
 
 40 
 
 OX CERT.4IX MOD Ell X UlSTOkUXS. 
 
 Whev Gibbon, and bis guide, Voltaire, 
 Write histories with sardonic sneer, 
 I cannot think such iwti, forsooth, 
 For such important duties fit — 
 I love their eloquence and wit, 
 Bui love still more the truth. 
 
 Epigrammatic smart narration, 
 Georgeous and word-cramm'd declamation, 
 illusion, 
 Are instruments, no doubt, to place 
 The sober reader in the case 
 Of luminous confusion.
 
 44 
 
 If for instruction he should look 
 Let him peruse a wond'rous book 
 
 Call'd Jack the Giant Killer; 
 And if for anecdotes and jokes, 
 JRather than read such learned folks, 
 
 I recommend Joe Miller. 
 
 VK
 
 ON LIFE; 
 
 A SIMILE. 
 
 I strove to (limb up Malvern htl 
 
 so keen ; 
 I found the toil oppose my will, 
 So turu'd about to view the scene : 
 
 I taw the count ry fur and near, 
 It seem'd, alas! another place; 
 
 All objects dwindled now appear, 
 
 And some wl rdly trace. 
 
 Thu* on thy height*, philoso; 
 
 in superior sense; 
 i m.uikiud, soon with a sigk 
 it their sad prc-ei;
 
 46 
 
 Remote from what chagrins us all, 
 Remote from what gives pleasure too; 
 
 So every object seems too small 
 T' attract the philosophic view. 
 
 WRITTEN
 
 47 
 
 WRITTEN OS RETURNING FROM 
 A KOI 
 
 l Socrates once went into a fair 
 At Athens, or, perhaps, elsewhere, 
 ale to my talc ; but there he saw 
 
 Each splendid bawble, and each gay gewgaw, 
 I h as a roan of sense, no doubt, 
 Might with much comfort do without. 
 
 The Sage exclaim'd, with quick averted eye. 
 
 How many things are here I would not buy! 
 Less sage, but not less sad, I left the rout, 
 
 Lords, ladies, knights, and squires, shining bright. 
 
 With jewels and with lace a goodly sight. 
 
 The place appear'd to me too dull 
 
 To wish one moment to rem:im, 
 A room so very warm and full 
 
 Of folk* 1 would not see again.
 
 48 
 
 ON THE LADIES WEARING WATCHES 
 IN THEIR BOSOMS. 
 
 Witlings might say each lovely creature 
 Wears in her bosom a repeater, 
 Because most ladies shew a liking 
 To every thing they reckon striking ; 
 And that some fair ones love the trick 
 Of taking up their goods on tick. 
 What tho' I would not wish to flatter,. 
 My thoughts are different on the matter: 
 Dear creatures, I rejoice to spy 
 Such symptoms of philosophy; 
 That time you most devoutly prize 
 Is plainly shewn by where it lies;. 
 Or, could it occupy a part 
 So very near a lady's heart? 
 
 TO
 
 49 
 
 TO A FRIEND WHO SAID I WAS BURIED 
 l.\ THE COUNTRY. 
 
 Com i II. and my epitaph pen, 
 
 I rejoice in to early a doom, 
 That I have fled from the dull bum of men, 
 
 And found in this cottage my tomb : 
 
 ' He was stunn'd by the noise of the town, 
 And died in a fit of the spleen ; 
 
 Xong before be lethargic was grown, 
 And nodding he often was lew. 
 
 ' Whilst blockheads were mending the state, 
 Or the leisure of converse would waste, 
 
 In haranguing on free-will and fate, 
 On philosophy, morals, and taste.
 
 50 
 
 ' Long dead to the joy that attends 
 
 The pursuit of fame, honour, and pelf; 
 
 For pleasure he look'd to his friends, 
 Whilst he sought for content in himself/ 
 
 A HINT
 
 5t 
 
 A HIST TO ENTHUSIASTS IN THE 
 PICTURESQUE. 
 
 How false the dreams of visionary hope*! 
 
 How oft, grim Solitude, have bards display 'd 
 Thy charms, with all the magic power of tropes, 
 
 And call'd thee sage Philosophy's hand-maid. 
 
 -80 some raw youth, fantastic, vain, and rich, 
 In Wales or Scotland seeks some wild retreat ; 
 
 And lives a week like storm-begotten witch, 
 Then finds that Solitude is not so sweet : 
 
 Laments that feeble man in the dark shades 
 
 Of unassisted Solitude must pine ; 
 Ah! what are cloud-cap'd hills and proud 
 cascades ! 
 What! for a little while most wond'rous fine. 
 x 2
 
 o'l 
 
 Aciieu, Skiddaw ! and thy proud lakes, Oh, Wye ! 
 
 ,Tbey claim'd the passing tribute of my praise; 
 But soon I left you all without a sigh. 
 
 In a snug couxitry town to pass nry days/ 
 
 A HINT
 
 53 
 
 A II I ST TO AMOROUS tXD CLASSICAL 
 mUTEMA JX M.tc.l/I.XES. 
 
 Look not in Tooke's Pantheon, or in Spence's, 
 And Bysbes' art for school- Lo\s only made is; 
 
 Such learning but confounds the reader's senses, 
 Besides, 'tis talking latin to the ladies ! 
 
 This mythologic cant obscures your style, 
 And shews that your invention's in distress ; 
 
 Such poems never gain a patron's smile, 
 Or won the heart of any real mistress ! 
 
 Nor make to sentiment such grave pretence — 
 Here genius only gains the true sublime ; 
 
 Put in your tasks a little common sense, 
 Nor call that poetry that's scarcely rhyme. 
 
 x 9 TUB
 
 H 
 
 THE POETICAL MISTRESS. 
 
 My Chloe has immortal charms 
 Which time and death defy; 
 
 Of ivory are both her arms, 
 And a diamond is each eye: 
 
 Her hair of ebony is made, 
 Each lock so strong and big, 
 
 That not e'en fashion will persuade 
 My nymph to wear a wig : 
 
 Her bosom, all so fair and round, 
 
 Is made of alabaster ; 
 So no good reason can be found 
 
 To say it will not last her.
 
 65 
 
 The face of this enchanting maid 
 
 la one bright damask rote, 
 And when it on her cheeks shall Cad* 
 
 Twill flourish on her nose ! 
 
 For beauty equal and for fame, 
 Her praise I'll still rehearse ; 
 
 Whose charms are lasting as my flame, 
 And deathless as my verse. 
 
 ■ > TO
 
 56 
 
 TO MY REAL MISTRESS. 
 
 ■ •.. , 
 
 Lovely Anne is flesh and blood, 
 So I deem her fair and good : 
 Were her teeth, of pearls a row, 
 Were her bosom driven snow, 
 Were the tresses of her hair 
 Sun-beams in the noon-tide air ; 
 Were her radiant eyes the rubies 
 Brought from India by Na-boobie» 
 Were her feet so small and white, 
 Made of silver shining bright ; 
 Think not my expressions quaint, 
 (Thus will youthful poets paint;) 
 
 Such attractions had she shar'd, 
 In this modish phrase pourtray'd, 
 
 For whatt-'er I knew or car'd, 
 Anna might have died a maid. 
 
 ANA-
 
 A7 
 
 ICREOSTIC. 
 
 Whex Doctor Pump-Aqua camo I 
 A brim-full decanter fttood by, 
 
 Come, Doctor, partake of my cbci • 
 But Galen repl/d with a sigh: 
 
 ' In rain, my dear friend, I exhort, 
 In vain send the draught and the pill. 
 
 I see that curs'd bottle of port, 
 Ah, there is the Fountain of 111 f 
 
 The next time he came, in a trice 
 I took the last chirruping cup— 
 
 1 See, Doctor, 1 follow advice, 
 The Fountain of 111 is dry'd up.' 
 
 TV
 
 TO A LADY WHO PRESENTED ME 
 WITH A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 
 
 Dear lady 'tis so, and I find 
 
 My judgement and my eyes were blind, 
 
 Tho' you could judge and see ; 
 What tho' I felt th' enchanting pow'r 
 That rul'd your converse every hour, 
 
 I thought my heart was free : 
 
 When from these glasses I espy'd 
 Charms to my sight so long deny'd, 
 
 I view'd them with a sigh; 
 Your waist that swells so gently round, 
 Your steps that hardly touch the ground, 
 
 Your calm, yet sportive eye:
 
 59 
 
 From sense to passion I was turn'd, 
 Where once I wonder'd now I bum'd 
 
 In Msionary bliss; 
 I ask'd, on softer joys intent, 
 Your band, instead of argument, 
 
 Instead of proof—- a kiss. 
 
 k I M£|
 
 60 
 
 VERSES TO MY MISTRESS, WHO COM- 
 PLAINED OF MY ABSENCE. 
 
 IN THE MANNER OF EDWARD WALLER. 
 
 What tho' my rivals may report 
 That the loud gun and manly sport 
 Of the brisk chase too much employ 
 The hours I give to rural joy; 
 Yet the grand pleasure of my life 
 Is founded in my future wife; 
 To that grand centre of my fate 
 All my best wishes gravitate. 
 
 Lo, thus our globe, altho' 'tis known 
 To have a motion of its own, 
 And in its orbit loves to stray 
 The private circle of the day;
 
 Dual course, the earth 
 (Or else we all should feel a dearth) 
 Makes the hnghl sun, with food devotion, 
 The attractive centre of hi* motion. 
 
 If KITTEN
 
 62 
 
 WRITTEN AFTER READING SOME VERY 
 SAD SONNETS. 
 
 Hence, Sensibility! fantastic maid, 
 Of joy and sorrow equally afraid; 
 Why com'st thou thus to brave a life of storm ? 
 So thin thy vesture, and so frail thy form ! 
 Say, dost thou love by Cinlhia's dubious light 
 Near some lone tomb to sit a woe-worn sprite t 
 Charm'd the Sad Sonnet's melody to hear, 
 And smile and shudder at the midnight air ! 
 Dost thou delight o'er nature's vivid scene 
 To cast the yellow tints of sickly spleen! 
 Go, impotent of body and of mind, 
 Thy aching temples with the night-shade bind ; 
 Haste to the hermit's and the friar's cell, 
 There on your self-taught woes in rapture dwell ;
 
 There useless to a world yoq thus deplore 
 Join in his sighs, and add one blockhead more : 
 There, for yourself, pour forth this pray'r to 
 
 Hear'n— 
 That sins of Discontent may be forgiv'n ! 
 
 THE
 
 G4 
 
 THE POETS COMPLAINT CONSIDERED. 
 
 * Wealth is the source of ev'ry human ill, 
 Of all the idol, yet of all the curse ;' 
 
 So sings full many a luckless bard, I trow, 
 Without one single stiver in his purse. 
 
 Whilst thus thev rave, all furious against gold, 
 1 much suspect the sterling of each line; 
 
 And deem such declamation vastly bold, 
 Altho' the sentiment is teryjine. 
 
 Fortune, I will not at thy favours jeer, 
 But like a lucky gamester hug my cards, 
 
 And if I find my wealth brings too much 
 care, 
 I'll then divide it with my brother bards. 
 
 A CON-
 
 to 
 
 A cos yr\T STORY. 
 
 ' It \oubave granted, lovely Kate, 
 
 Tboae favour* (which 1 sought in vain) 
 To Friar John, escape his fate, 
 
 Hasten and plunge into the main ! 
 For lately John's great favourite Tray 
 
 Mis master's hand in madness tore; 
 On you the poison soon will prey, 
 
 If— (but my pen can say no more.'; 
 
 Thus, to a nun of gay eighteen 
 A love-sick doctor wrote, to try 
 
 If what he had heard, turmis'd, and seen, 
 Was but the dream of jealousy:
 
 0(i 
 
 Kate read the letter to them all, 
 And pale each xirgin face appears ; 
 
 The Nuns and Lady Abbess squall ' 
 In sympathy to K&therine's tears. 
 
 The weather was so fine, they said, 
 She should not go alone to dip ; 
 
 With Lady Abbess at their head 
 The nuns all eager for a trip, 
 
 Haste to the health-restoring main, 
 
 (To Kate they bore such right good will) 
 
 And found, when they return' d again, 
 The Friar never had been ill ! 
 
 VERGES
 
 rr.RSES TO BE PLACED OS A LADTS 
 TOILET. SUMMER, 1802. 
 
 Love is a boy (so Poets speak) 
 Whose favourite game is hide and seek ; 
 See bow be breaks decorum's laws 
 To peep behind the veil of game, 
 
 ccly plac'd as not to show 
 My Clara's bosom's driven snow. 
 See now his eyes that never sleep, 
 Under her modest bonnet peep- 
 Now, while the frolic zephyrs play, 
 With nymphs the boy delights to stray, 
 O'er styles that lead to meadows pied, 
 And «••• their long gowns blown aside, 
 Discovering, with a roguish air, 
 What colour Clara's garters bear. 
 r 2
 
 68 
 
 Now near high Fhaetons he'll wend 
 To see the sprightly lass ascend, 
 Who, whilst his prying eyes escape her, 
 Displays her ancles, round and taper ; 
 But whilst imprudent nymphs discover 
 Their ev'ry charm to ev*ry lover, 
 Cupid is fit to die with passion, 
 Since ' Hide and seek' is out of fashion. 
 
 TO
 
 m 
 
 TO A PRETTY JTOMAS I\ UT YEAR. 
 
 HINT TO ANCIENT LOVIRI. 
 
 Ab, lady! no more may I view 
 
 Tboae magical circle*, your eyes; 
 To love I must bid an adieu, 
 
 And bury, in silence, my tight : 
 To flight 1 my safety mutt owe, 
 
 Your pretence renews all my pain ; 
 Who to freedom it tuch a sworn foe, 
 
 At to enter hit prison again. 
 Tbo' love might persuade me to bear 
 
 The loud-whisper'd jokes of the town, 
 Twould be my fate to grieve and despair, 
 
 And yours to pity and frown. 
 
 v 3 TO
 
 70 
 
 TO REASON. 
 
 Oh, could I take the high Parnassian road, 
 And soar above the reach of mortal ken ; 
 
 To Reason I would dedicate an Ode, 
 And rapid, without rule, dash on my pen. 
 
 Stanzas irregularly great should flow 
 
 With verses short and long, 
 
 Just as they suit my song, 
 Or as my rhyme and reason might allow. 
 
 Now, with some dwarfish lines of scarce two feet, 
 
 I'd stop, with pause sublime, 
 
 And then another time 
 I'd roll on Alexand'rines strong and fleet:
 
 71 
 
 Then might I strike my lyre with pride elate, 
 And heap on Reason epithets so fine ; 
 
 I'd call her Arbitress of Human Fate, 
 The attribute of man, and gift divine ! 
 
 Let lyric Bards with such bold figures bla/t- ; 
 
 humble lines to common farts attt ml ; 
 And look ou Reason in lift's dubious ways. 
 A sharp Reprover, and a faithless Friend. 
 
 # * WRITTES
 
 VI 
 
 WRITTEN AFTER READING 
 DR. JOHNSON'S * LIVES OF THE POETS: 
 
 Ah, what! since all things have their season, 
 Poets, at last, must bow to reason ; 
 Milton and Gray, those sons of thunder, 
 Must, if a pedant wills, knock under ; 
 And quitting each brain-woven fiction, 
 Prove in correct as thought and diction ; 
 Adhere to fact and common sense 
 Like an Old Bailey evidence, 
 Or else for perjury be try'd, 
 Because the case is plain, they lied, 
 And brought together earth and skies 
 To vindicate their monstrous lies ! 
 Sooner shall steeds, New-Market's pride ; 
 To flying waggons be fast ty'd,
 
 73 
 
 Or the cloud-piercing eagle learn 
 To hunt for mice like owl in barn — 
 Or the great doctor's gorgeous style 
 Smooth'd by a brother Critic's file, 
 Shall monosyllables produce, 
 Snug and compact for general use. 
 
 kKRSES
 
 VERSES TO A PEDANT, WITH A SIMILE. 
 
 Grave Sir, no doubt, you're wond'rous wise- 
 I judge by those broad owl-like eyes, 
 
 Those dark and pent-house brows : 
 By the deep silence you maintain 
 Methinks the case is very plain, 
 
 But not so plain as your red nose. 
 
 When first, sage Sir, I heard your speech, 
 I own it was beyond my reach, 
 
 Learned, and deep enough in conscience ; 
 At length I deem'd it less obscure, 
 I understood it to be sure, 
 
 By finding it was arrant nonsense !
 
 75 
 
 Thus have I gaz'd upon a tow'r, 
 Of gothic structure, half an hour, 
 
 Pleas'd, nay astonish'd, all the time; 
 -ome curs'd tinkbng bell within 
 Awoke me by its craxy din, 
 
 And scaltcr'd every thought sublime. 
 
 W
 
 TO ENTHUSIASTIC ADMIRERS OF 
 PETRARCH. 
 
 Were you a moment to reflect upon it, 
 
 You'll And, in praising Petrarch, how you 
 blunder'd; 
 
 A man in love, I grant, may write a Sonnet, 
 The deuce is in him if he writes an hundred ! 
 
 Forget old Petrarch's dull pedantic lays, 
 
 With tender thoughts no virgin's breast they 
 fill; 
 
 But such as stale and old to mend their ways, 
 Hang on the enraptur'd tongue of Rowland H — 
 
 With such Dan Petrarch may, perhaps, have 
 merit; 
 
 In this the Poet may with H — agree, 
 To extol that junction of the flesh and spirit 
 
 Which fires the bosom of the devotee.
 
 ;: 
 
 Let such write amorous hymns in language 
 quaint, 
 
 If you love Chlce, like s man go win her ; 
 Nor call the girl an angel or a saint ; 
 
 Tell her she'll make a very pretty sinner. 
 
 4 S<
 
 78 
 
 A SONNET; 
 
 ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF PETRARCH. 
 
 ON MY MISTRESS DRIVING ME FROM 
 HER PRESEtXCE WITH HER FAN. 
 
 I feel those rude cold breezes as they blow, 
 My sad, yet gentle harbingers of death ; 
 
 Long were they foster'd on those hills of snow, 
 Congeal'd by the harsh winter of thy breath. 
 
 "Whilst thro' the noon-tide grove I stray alone, 
 E'erwhile fond love emits a feeble light, 
 
 And now a woe-worn Pilgrim do I moan, 
 
 And all Love's heavenly views are hid in night.
 
 My Laura in the clear empyreal sky. 
 Shines like the sun without a rival there, 
 
 Between us what a distance! whilst poor I 
 Am but a dog-star in this nether sphere. 
 
 Laura is gay and grave, and mild and cruel, 
 The source of all my woes and all my joy, 
 Nor prayers, nor wine, nor rhymes, nor water 
 gruel, 
 Can tooth that heart which hopes and fears 
 destroy. 
 
 M>\-
 
 80 
 
 SONNETS, 
 
 IN MY OWN MANNER. 
 
 Sonnet I. 
 ON CHLOE'S RESERVE. 
 
 Let Chloe put on her imperious frown; 
 
 Or, what is worse, resume her treacherous 
 smiles, 
 I care not, I am posting up to town, 
 
 Saddle my horse — 'tis only fifty miles. 
 
 Some swains, indeed, would hang themselves on 
 willows, \ 
 
 Or plunge their noddles into streams so cold ; 
 I hate fresh water and salt water billows-^ 
 
 Pho, these are boyish tricks, and I'm too old!
 
 81 
 
 ( liloc would wed me did she think I had wealth — 
 < Moe is deep, perhaps, but I am deeper ; 
 
 I'll walk the Mall, and woo soma lass by stealth, 
 And buy as pure good love, and so much 
 cheaper!
 
 82 
 
 ftonnet 2. 
 TO MY FAMILY HARPSICHORD. 
 
 Sweet emblem, well thy various notes pourtray 
 The chequer'd cares of my domestic day, 
 In the rough rumbling cadence of thy base 
 My butcher's and my brewer's voice I trace: 
 When shriller sounds arise upon mine ear 
 My wife's melodious pipe I seem to hear ; 
 When to her maids she speaks her sovereign will, 
 Or curtain lectures tell it plainer still, 
 Those strains again — ah, no! they higher soar — 
 Some cordials, John; and shut the nurs'ry door. 
 Thus, with my duns, my children, and my wife, 
 I play the treble and the base of life : 
 Blest Instrument, thy notes and mine are one, 
 Save your's have stops, and mine, alas ! have 
 
 none! 
 
 Mi
 
 83 
 
 %mm 3. 
 W THE OWL. 
 
 waiTTEX IX TUB UXITERSITY. 
 
 ' Hail! bird of woe, whose flagging pinions lean 
 On yon dismantled tower, whose walls sublime, 
 Crumbling beneath the tyrant grasp of time, 
 
 Lodge the rude howling beasts, and birds obscene. 
 
 Sage bird, I mark thy melancholy mien, 
 Thy dark and secret nook, which well pourtray 
 Thy sober hatred of the glare of day, 
 
 And lore of this sad, silent, solemn scene.'
 
 84 
 
 Thus sung a serious bard — I heard and smil'd, 
 I knew his owlship could not bear the light ; 
 Thus sullen Pedants, by self-love beguil'd, 
 
 Far from the cheerful world betake their flight,. 
 And, void of ev'ry talent to amuse, 
 In pomp of pride and wig the cloyster choose. 
 
 ftflTt'
 
 85 
 
 VHBCt 4. 
 
 ON PASSING SOME I >F A GOTHIC 
 
 rsrut 
 
 What still you look gloomy and big, 
 And still as I pass, you dare frown ; 
 
 For your turrets I care not a fig — 
 
 I am glad that your ramparts are down. 
 
 Here liv'd some bold Baron or Knight, 
 Far fam'd for his riches and strife ; 
 
 Who soon with his neighbour would fight, 
 And then ravish his daughter and wU 
 
 Tho' your aspect, so antique and rough, 
 Price and Gilpin with rapture might see, 
 
 You scarcely have beauties enough 
 To please Mr. R n and me ! 
 
 • 3
 
 86 
 
 To a Sonnet, perhaps, you'll give hints, 
 But for use you are worse than an hovel ; 
 
 I should like you in Loutherbourg's tints, 
 Or by Radcliffe describ'd in a novel. 
 
 ©on*
 
 w 
 
 ftatmrt 5. 
 
 I I I SOME BEAUTIFUL GARDENS 
 ADORNED WITH RUINS. 
 
 Jlow fre«b the herbage of this level Ian a; 
 
 1 1 jw redolent of joy each budding spray — 
 These, at the pensive eve and cheerful dawn, 
 
 Endear the pleasures of a rural day. 
 
 Such scenes can calm the feverish pulse of care, 
 Awake to mirth the closing eyes of age, 
 
 Sooth for a while the fury of despair, 
 Unfold to apathy th' instructive page. 
 
 • 4
 
 88 
 
 What wayward fancy, in a scene like this, 
 Sad emblems of decay would thus obtrude ? 
 
 What demon, envious of my day's short bliss? 
 What blockhead, foe to gentle solitude ? 
 
 &01*
 
 *onn« a. 
 
 MUSIC AND PAINTING. 
 
 ON SEEING A POOR FIDLF.ll /A THE 
 STREET. 
 
 8a r, tuneful wandinr, in the crowded street* 
 What the reward of melody diviner 
 
 Thy dress is shabby, and thy slip-shod feet, 
 Meihinks, in some respects, are worse than 
 
 Vain is thy boasted art ; what, tho' your din 
 Attracts the idle passenger who stands 
 
 To hear your fiddle scream beneath your chin, 
 Few arc the halfpence chinking in your bands.
 
 90 
 
 Thus fares it with thy Poet — what, tho' he 
 His sorrows vents in the sad sonnet's strains; 
 
 From every wish, save fame immortal, free; 
 What gets he, say — A garret without panes. 
 
 Whilst Painting, sister art, in plenty thrives 
 'Midst gay coquets and sober-minded cits, 
 
 And flatt'ring fond husbands, and young wives — 
 She makes a pretty penny by her wits. 
 
 ©on*
 
 91 
 
 7. 
 TO A BLACKBIRD IS MY GARDES. 
 
 What tho' yoo wear the sable garb of woe, 
 Sweet are the thrills which warble in your 
 throat ; 
 
 All thought of dismal colours I forego, 
 
 And praise, as well I may, each vary'd note. 
 
 Joy tunes your song, whilst now with busy wing, 
 From fruit to fruit voluptuously you glide ; 
 
 Such as might make the darkling Owlet sing 
 A gay duet with Jackdaw by his side. 
 
 My garden is too small for such a guest; 
 
 I know jour band is large as well a* fine; 
 And you musicians like the very best, 
 
 And cannot harmonize unless you dine.
 
 92 
 
 So fares it with the Bard you thus invade, 
 Like you he too must steal a dinner soon; 
 
 Like you he starves upon his piping trade, 
 ,And loves a nect'rine better than a tune. 
 
 &0B-
 
 03 
 
 VQRttft 8. 
 
 TO TBE CUCKOO. 
 
 Brisk rogue, I love to hear your note; 
 
 I love to see you on the wing ; 
 
 You are the harbinger of spring, 
 And the soft lephyrs on your plumage float : 
 
 Your strain monotonous delights, 
 It suits the fashion of my mind, 
 And the world's fashion too I And 
 
 That dull monotony of sounds and sights. 
 
 Our pleasures and pursuits how stale! 
 
 Pacing the same eternal round, 
 And yet we all repeat the tale, 
 
 Till hope itself asleep is found : 
 We still on life's old pleasures doat, 
 And listen to the Cuckoo's note.
 
 94 
 
 fionnet 9. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF MY WIFE, WHO WAS 
 SOMEWHAT QUERULOUS. 
 
 I cannot lament, tho' she's gone, 
 So great her objections to life, 
 
 To have something to ground them upon 
 She became very early my wife : 
 
 In the most placid moments we knew 
 She had always some woe to impart, 
 
 Which she did, with description so true, 
 For grief was a balm to her heart. 
 
 To behold the bright sun in the sky 
 If joy in my eyes was exprest, 
 
 My pleasure she check' d with a sigh, 
 And shewed me a cloud in the west.
 
 93 
 
 Shs is gone ! and I hope the good dame 
 Is sojourning now in the skies, 
 
 Tho' I doubt she'll complain that she came 
 To a place without sorrows and sighs !
 
 96 
 
 ftonnet 10. 
 
 ON VISITING A SCHOOL AFTER MANY 
 YEARS ABSENCE. 
 
 An, me! what change has fancy undergone 
 Since twenty years have pass'd with silent 
 tread ; 
 
 I now am what I us'd to quiz, a Don — 
 Witness this bushy wig upon my head. 
 
 The scene how changM ! all things diminish'd 
 in it! 
 
 Yon wall, that us'd my wand'ring feet to stay, 
 Methinks I could o'er-leap it in a minuet, 
 
 D'ul not this gouty foot stand in my way.
 
 97 
 
 Von formal pedant's now a puppet decm'd, 
 All speculation from his eye is fled, 
 
 1 1 purple nose that whilom terror gleam'd, 
 Looks like a well-fed lobster s claw boil'd red. 
 
 Tli* rod terrific once, now scarce seems fit 
 To whip a syllabub, or scare a fly ; 
 
 The moral's plain — Experience ripens wit, 
 And to our younger fancies gives the lie.
 
 08 
 
 Sonnet 11. 
 AN ADIEU TO MY WATCH. 
 
 Go, useless bauble, where, on yon smooth pane, 
 Three golden balls in equal splendor shine ; 
 
 Go; for the wise ones say, ' That time is gain? 
 And money I must have, or cannot dine. 
 
 You cannot promise aught of sweet content 
 Whilst on your dial thus my eyes I fix ; 
 
 No alderman to me a card has sent 
 With dinner on the table just at six! 
 
 For me no damsel, when the sun is set 
 
 Keeps the appointed hour in yon dark grove ; 
 
 Where hope is gone 'tis better to forget; 
 
 And what have hungry Bards to do with love ?
 
 yy 
 
 Charm'd with thy trinkets, and thy fair round (at e, 
 Be thou the purchase of some school-freed boy ; 
 
 He loves to see thy hours run on apace. 
 Whilst each gay moment points to future joy. 
 
 M S
 
 100 
 
 Sonnet 12. 
 THE CONSOLJBLE WIDOW. 
 
 When young porinda lost her good old man 
 Grief drew iio salt-drop from her hazle eyes; 
 
 She hid her cheerful face behind her fan, 
 And try'd in vain to heave a decent sigh. 
 
 Her breast she beat, not with a hideous yell, 
 Nor dar'd her flowing robes and locks to tear; 
 
 She knew the value of those charms too well, 
 And prudence told her muslin was too dear. 
 
 n a snug patent coffin Dromio lies ; 
 ' There's rest in Heaven,' the pious Hatch- 
 ment said : 
 His Epitaph proclaims him good and wise — 
 Virtues grew like his beard when he was dead.
 
 101 
 
 Dorinda's mind is still to cares alive, 
 And dark each rising day the last succeeds, 
 
 Till time and her attorney can i out m. 
 To prove her husband's will, and doff her 
 weeds. 
 
 11 * •on-
 
 10£ 
 
 ftonnet 13. 
 
 WRITTEN ON PASSING BY A COTTAGE 
 IN A WINTER DAY. 
 
 Tho' idle Bards the wreath of praise entwine 
 Round the low Cottage, which they paint the 
 scene 
 
 Of love and happiness — the task be mine 
 To shew how little poets sometimes mean. 
 
 Yon weight of snow pierces thy wretched thatch r 
 So ill supported by thy mud-rais'd walls ; 
 
 Now the rude storm forces the feeble latch, 
 Whilst th' unhinged portal crashing falls
 
 103 
 
 Within, what pale and haggard forms I 'ty 
 
 h scarce a rag to brave I I *s cold ; 
 
 Love sports not, meagre Dame, within thine eye, 
 And Damon's brow no cheerful thoughts 
 unfold. 
 
 Go to, ye lying Wights, in verse or prose, 
 Whether ye shine in Novels or in Sonn< 
 
 I wish, your heated fancies to compose, 
 That ye were lodg'd one twelvemonth in these 
 hovels! 
 
 h * THM
 
 104 
 
 THE FROG AND THE HERMIT. 
 
 A FABLE. 
 
 During the Dog-star's furious rage, 
 A frog was looking for some shade, 
 
 And coming near an hermitage 
 
 With a brisk hop his entrance made : 
 
 So cry'd the Hermit — ' Neighbour Frog, 
 You are come, no doubt, to take my place; 
 
 Here is my cloak and all my prog — ■ 
 
 Take them, 1 give them with good grace, 
 
 ' But you must tell the young and gay 
 To leave their junketting and joking ; 
 
 To think of death by night and day — > 
 You're a good hand I know at croaking.'
 
 105 
 
 * Friend,' quoth the Frog, * I have no tart* 
 For self-tormenting modes of life ; 
 
 Grant me some shade, and I'll go haste 
 To fetch my little ones aid wu 
 
 JJIF.
 
 106 
 
 THE FABLE OF ACTEON EXPLAINED. 
 
 Acteon, as the poets tell us, 
 Was one of those hard-riding fellows 
 That would have ventur'd his own neck 
 Rather than give his horse a check, 
 And tho' he was a marry 'd man 
 He much infring'd on Dian's plan. 
 His table sumptuous, and the glass 
 Would oft sans intermission pass, 
 Till senseless to his bed they carry'd 
 Acteon, tho' the rogue was marry'd ! 
 As this was eVry night the case 
 The Footman fill'd Acteon's place, 
 And acting in his master's stead 
 Plac'd horns upon the hunter's head,
 
 107 
 
 A head that held so little 
 As still to plunge in fresh expence, 
 Till poor Acteon sold his grounds, 
 And soon was ale up by hu hounds. 

 
 108 
 
 ON VISITING THE UNIVERSITY AFTER 
 MANY YEARS ABSENCE. 
 
 Ah, many a merry scheme and trip I've made 
 Since near thy classic stream, O Cam,, I stra/d; 
 Ah, when I hear thy jangling bells, and see 
 Thy cloysters dark, this is no place for me : 
 1 utter sad, and feel my heart like lead, 
 Heavy and cold, with megrims in my head; 
 Now busy fancy to my mind recalls 
 The festive scenes of theatres and balls ; 
 Of social parties, where mild wit presides, 
 And decent mirth, not ' holding both his sides;' 
 Where women charm by gentle words and looks, 
 And men grow wise beyond the reach of books; 
 Here some I see who in their careless youth 
 Attach'd, methought, to friendship and to truth ;
 
 109 
 
 Chill'd by the cloystcr's damp, now darkling 
 
 frown, 
 And self- plcas'd Dulness marks them for her own. 
 Adieu, ye learn'd in vain ! obscurely wise, 
 To-morrow I shall view more genial skies. 
 And quit most willingly such scenes as these. 
 Where many can. \« ■: fen datfl to please ; 
 Their aim, no doubt, by care-worn looks to shew 
 ' Increase of knowledge is increase of woe.' 
 
 THE
 
 110 
 THE ECHO. 
 
 (NO FABLE.) 
 
 I ask lay patron — ' Do you know 
 
 When I shall get a place, Sir ?' ' No.' 
 
 Chloe I ask'd to fix the day — 
 
 She answer'd, quite amaz'd, ' Hey day !' 
 
 I ask'd a friend to lend me money; 
 
 He star'd, and then reply'd — ' What mun, I ?' 
 
 1 sliew'd a printer my first book, 
 
 And, with a very anxious look, 
 
 I ask'd him what he thought 'twould fetch ? 
 
 He quickly answer'd — ' Sir, a vetch/ 
 
 1 as da banker, ' Should I put 
 
 My cash at int'rest,' country Put. 
 
 Lastly, I ask'd my slip-shod muse 
 
 What I should do, she said — ' Amuse.' 
 
 ON
 
 Ill 
 
 OX THE APPROACH OF SUMMER. 
 
 Let other Bards who write i* tij/tc 
 Sing how your ladyship can smile ; 
 How, at your bidding, meadows green, 
 And vallies, too, are laughing seen ; 
 Tint at your beck, so like a broom, 
 Each tree in winter will resume 
 Its ample foliage, and the crow 
 Shall scarce his former out-post know ; 
 Let them describe, in every grove, 
 At your approach, the God of I 
 Teaches both men and beast to coo, 
 And that e'en lions learn to woo; 
 Inspir'd by ev'ry amorous gale 
 
 ' roar like any nightingale;' 
 That now, beneath lb*, bet <<t rhillis, 
 Up rise the roses and the lilies ;
 
 112 
 
 Be their's the laurel, mine the plan 
 To sing your praises as I can : 
 'Tis yours, dear lovely Tide, to screen 
 Your Bard from subterfuges mean ; 
 In Summer I abroad can wander, 
 Nor on my tatter'd garments ponder, 
 Nor meditate against my will 
 On longitude of taylor's bill — 
 Of coals and candles little think, 
 And much abridge my meat and drink, 
 And correspondents irksome dodging, 
 A barn or hay-stack is my lodging, 
 Scorning a Patron's smile or frown 
 Contented there I lay me down ; 
 May I be Devil to a Printer 
 "When I prefer thee not to Winter! 
 
 A CHECK
 
 UJ 
 
 HF.CK TO VAX 
 
 A LITERARY TALK. 
 
 molars, my friend, are duly pr 
 Exclaitn'd some very moderate Poet ; 
 I own the circumstance surpris'd, 
 
 And I am willing you should know it. 
 
 Wishing to paw a neighbouring flora 
 
 1 saw a man guiding a boat 
 By two high poles joiu'd by a cord ; 
 1 the man wore a smartish coal : 
 
 He bow'd— I enter'd— pass'd the stream; 
 
 OflerM my f ee h e, self-possei t , 
 Refus'd ; quite proud, as it should seem, 
 liave a Poet for his guest !
 
 114 
 
 The friend no more his laugh restrains — 
 * I know the man ; he lost his senses 
 Some three years since — the man has wealth, 
 And finds it useful to his health 
 On the most frivolous pretences 
 He plies his toil, but scorns all gains. 
 Were you a clown, a jack-ass, or a cow, 
 He'd bring his boat, and make you a fine bow.' 
 
 AXO-
 
 115 
 
 ANOTHER; 
 
 TO TBI SAME TVKK. 
 
 A LtAiMiD Lady (there are some, 
 
 Or were, at least, who us'd to come 
 
 In the life-time of Montague 
 
 To a snug club, yclep'd Bat bUm,) 
 
 Once to a Sage was introduced, 
 
 And soon the Lady's tongue was loos'd : 
 
 The man had quite a philosophic scowl, 
 
 Nodded and look'd as grave as any Owl, 
 
 But such a constant silence kept 
 
 You would have thought the man had slept* 
 
 Soon after this choice conference 
 The Lady with her friends began l 
 
 1 1 never met with so much seme, 
 Such modesty in any man !'
 
 lid 
 
 He nodded at the proper place, 
 
 And never once mistook the case — 
 
 Would now most pertinently smile, 
 
 And paid attention all the while: 
 
 •' 1 now have met for what I've long been 
 
 yearning, 
 A man of real wit and real learning.' 
 
 A Wag, who had devis'd the scheme, 
 
 Thought this a time to raise their mirth : 
 ' Dear Madam, this is all a dream; 
 I'm glad he was not troublesome, 
 
 But I have known him from his birth, 
 And the poor man was born both deaf and dumb. 
 
 ON
 
 117 
 
 OX GENU'S. 
 
 Coxcombs, to praise themselves, deny 
 What all philosophers espy, 
 
 The specks upon the sun ; 
 For these dull noodles cannot see 
 That the bright orb no doubt would be 
 
 More brilliant were there none. 
 
 Thus they to Genius lay a claim, 
 And wish to gain a glorious fame 
 
 By the most strange devices ; 
 Whilst some aspire to gain the priie 
 By apeing singular 1 
 
 And some, more strange, by vices! 
 
 j S
 
 MS 
 
 And imitate the specks of those 
 Who have in real splendour rose ; 
 Yet real Genius ne'er was known 
 The indolent or bad to own : 
 
 To those alone proves kind, 
 Whose modest and incessant toil 
 Labours to cultivate the soil 
 
 Of a rich native mind. 
 
 JNCIEJST
 
 119 
 
 F.NT AND MODERN HEROINE*. 
 
 Wh r.x o'er the dancing billows Theseus hied, 
 A faithless truant to his fair one's side, 
 Sad Ariadne, plung'd in deep despair, 
 Beat her full breast, and tore her golden hair. 
 Young Bacchus met the nynipb, and, in his 
 Dry'd her big tears, and sooth'd her fond alarms. 
 When Poll of Plymouth saw her favourite swain 
 Launch with a rising gale upoa the main. 
 She swore an oath that landmen would affright, 
 Tied up her hair, and plac'd her tucker right; 
 With arms a-kimbo (each lost hope to rally) 
 She sought the nearest gin-shop in Ram-Alley ! 
 
 i 4 LOVE
 
 12© 
 
 LOVE VERSE S; 
 (not in shknstone.) 
 
 I told my love, and told her true, 
 Little of modish life 1 knew ; 
 To me unknown the dang'rous art 
 To steal and melt a lady's heart — 
 And ne'er before had lov'd> till now, 
 I breath'd to her my amorous vow. 
 My Chloe heard, and all the while 
 Indulg'd the most enchanting smile : 
 Ah, Shepherds! can I ever fear 
 My Chloe's passion's not sincere ? 
 I told her I ne'er learn'd in France 
 To touch the lyre, or lead the dance; 
 fto Poet I, and scarce could chime 
 Two or three stanzas to a rhime ;
 
 lei 
 
 blot heard, and all the while 
 ludulg'd the most enchanting smile. 
 I told my love, and told h» i iru»-, 
 My meadows and my flocks wercTew- 
 That I was but an humble swain, 
 Rut still I never would complain 
 Of fortune, for a cot with her 
 I hould to palaces prefer. 
 My Chloe heard me with a frown, 
 And fist uprais'd to knock me down. 
 Ah, Shepherds! can I ever fear 
 Mv ( hloe's passion's not sincere! 
 
 oy
 
 122 
 
 OR KISSES. 
 
 (NOT IN JOANNES SECUNDUS.) 
 
 No : — I will ne'er attempt those strains 
 Which dare to paint a lover's bliss ; 
 
 The luscious meed of amorous pains — 
 I mean a warm and mutual kiss. 
 
 The kiss ycleped conjugal 
 
 When folks together meet for gold, 
 The act is then so very cold, 
 
 That tho' my powers of rhyme are small 
 I yet might give it praises due, 
 And critics own my colours true. 
 
 Of kisses filial I could write — 
 They are not things of so much fire, 
 Nor will poetic force require 
 
 To paint the infinite delight ;
 
 ■B 
 
 When little master and young miw 
 Upon some Whitsun holiday 
 
 Stand very patient for a kiss 
 Till mamma wipes her snuff away: 
 
 .Ah, let me save my powers of st\ lr, 
 Till from the banks of gentli- I 
 
 By the prime Minister's commands 
 I go to court, to sing how nice is — 
 
 How vast the joy of kisung- bands! 
 
 THE
 
 ]24 
 
 THE MODERN PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 Tho' men of no minds call me madman and oaf, 
 Yet my friends all declare me un grand phi- 
 
 losophe ; 
 Religion I hate — for I hate all restraint, 
 And whatever I have been, I'm no longer a saint: 
 Each volume of Ethics may rest on the shelf, 
 For the main spring of action is center'd in self. 
 * To be happy, we aim,' is the general voice; 
 Tho* laws oft deny us the means and the choice. 
 Tho' my writings disgrace both my talents and 
 
 fame, 
 I mean to be talk'd of, and that is my aim : 
 Am I laugh'd at and scorn'd ; this only I say — 
 I sought for distinction, but err'd in the way; 
 The rogue or adulterer, should not, when taken, 
 A penalty pay, for the man was mistaken
 
 115 
 
 In seeking his pleasure ; but who is so nice 
 To blame such an error, and call it a vice. 
 Should my liberal notions e'er meet with a stop, 
 And my lungs be clear'd up by that sophist — a 
 
 Drvp. 
 I still would maintain that my exit, forsooth, 
 Was ' political justice' contending with truth. 
 
 TO
 
 126 
 
 -*T0 DR. AND OTHERS. 
 
 A POET'S PETITION. 
 
 Dear doctor, who have always been 
 Famous for brewing oxygen, 
 Such air as mortals ought to breathe, 
 And not be hurry'd underneath, 
 . Attend a moment to my pray'r, 
 For Poets, who live much on air, 
 In lofty and close garrets pent 
 Are judges of that element, 
 And find it often very beastly, 
 In spite of Rumford, you, and Priestley. 
 Now promises, in most try'd cases, 
 Have aether for their general basis; 
 If you by your great skill would give 
 To airs your power restorative,
 
 133 
 
 THE WAIJL; 
 
 A MORAL TALE. 
 
 Til k sun his noon-tide course began, 
 
 Driving bis guldeii tar on high, 
 Chasing each dark cloud trum the sJi 
 Each sorrow from the heart of ■ 
 
 When from his cell, all lin'd with bonks, 
 Each musty volume thrown uway, 
 Rr Tranquil hails the genial day, 
 
 His heart was light, aud blithe his looks. 
 
 O'er Streaiham's wooded lawn he hits 
 
 To the broad path where joy invitee, 
 
 Proud charioteers and long-spurred knights, 
 
 To mix with dust the earth and skies, 
 k 3
 
 134 
 
 The ground shook deep, the stones flew wide, 
 The car and steeds like lightning pass'd; 
 ' Nay,' quoth Sir Tranquil, ' why so fast; 
 
 * His Grace is taking home his bride.' 
 
 ' Less haste — more speed,' Sir Tranquil said. 
 
 The horses start — the traces broke ; 
 
 From the fore-wheel out jumps the spoke: 
 Confusion damp'd the whole parade. 
 
 Zigzag, 3?et wishing much for speed, 
 A whiskey next approach'd, so full 
 Of Madam, Missy, and John Bull, 
 
 Loud groan'd the wheels, and more the steed. 
 
 Next came, with steady pace alert, 
 
 A chariot, and each horse look'd sleek ; 
 
 The folks within by smiles bespeak 
 Them free from hurry, toil, and dirt.
 
 135 
 
 • ,' quoth Sir Tranquil, * is plain sense, 
 Here man and beast are both at ease, 
 And the spectator joyful sees 
 The " Vehicle of Comp 
 
 ■ 4 ON
 
 136 
 
 ON FEMALE EDUCATION. 
 
 Accomplishments are all the ton, 
 With ample fortunes, or with none — 
 
 At which I've often wonder'd ; 
 Expensive equally the plan, 
 Whether papa can boast per ann. 
 
 Three thousands, or three hundred ! 
 
 Little it boots to dance and sing, 
 If house-wife arts no comfort bring, 
 
 And cold the fair one's kitchen; 
 I'd rather lead a lonely life, 
 Than starve with any genteel wife, 
 
 Tho' women are bewitching I
 
 137 
 
 Oft a Crulia liave I scrn 
 
 1 1\'' n keen, 
 
 Twas ludicrous, yet shocking— 
 With forni so thin, ■ voice so low, 
 With Ban much lrsa white than snow, 
 
 And a great boh in hi r stocking! 
 
 TUt
 
 138 
 
 THE LONDON CHURCH-YARD. 
 
 What grand mausoleums! ah, and what a race 
 Of Statesmen and of Warriors bold ! oh, no, Sir, 
 
 That ponderous waste of marble which you face 
 Covers John Fig, a mayor, and a, grocer. 
 
 Lo ! then the next conceals the venal charm* 
 Of the once fair Puttana: the whole city 
 
 Pour'd once a tide of wealth into her arms; 
 Now worms lie with her gratis — more the pity ! 
 
 for a fam'd dancer yon proud tomb was plann'd ? 
 
 Who, from his art, a princely income drew; 
 He, like a goose, upon one leg could stand, 
 
 Longer than sober folks would wish on two.
 
 139 
 
 I star'd, and tbank'd my guide — and tlif n I trac'd 
 Some Epitaphs; how gorgeous the st 
 
 With more than usual speed away I pac'd, 
 For in a church-yard who would with to suiiU- ? 
 
 J HE
 
 140 
 
 THE BEECH'S COMPLAINT OF DAMON 
 AND CCEUA. 
 
 Oft with my far-extended boughs 
 . I gave a friendly skreen, 
 Whilst lovers interchang'd their vows. 
 Unheard, and eke unseen. 
 
 No mother sage, no maiden aunt, 
 (So thick with leaves the place) 
 
 Could view in front, or e'en askant, 
 The kiss and close embrace. 
 
 Ungrateful pair ! with knives so fell 
 Why thus my bark invade ? 
 
 Why leave your shameless names to tell 
 The secrets of my shade l 
 
 TO
 
 
 TO CERTAIS STUDENTS IX BOT.lSY 
 
 Is this a due respect to nature, 
 Merely to learn a nomenclature t 
 To gossip stories of the amours 
 Of innocent plants and dainty flowers? 
 And thus your prurient minds inflame 
 With merry tricks of Cryptogarae, 
 And tell of lady-plants, who wive, 
 Some with ten lovers — some with five ! 
 At this pale modesty cries * Hush/ 
 Twould make a Commons Doctor blush ; 
 For nature's sake respect e'en flowers, 
 Explore their virtues and their powers ; 
 Nor make your ignorance an handle 
 ly to propagate your scandal. —
 
 142 
 
 Thus have I known a coxcomb prate 
 Of Lords and Dukes with idle pate, 
 Altho' no more of them he knew 
 Than a Court Calendar can do ; 
 He'd tell their names, their seats, and place*, 
 ./Then claim acquaintance with their Graces. 
 
 MY
 
 M43 
 
 HY OWN SORROWS. 
 
 Ihavi known ay intellect and earn 
 Harrass'd by whining Sonnettcers, 
 And seen (to stigmatize the great) 
 The poor cry'd up at any rate ; 
 Their faults excus'd, their vices pity'd, 
 And eVu their very rags be-ditt/d. 
 I have heard Britannia's focmen priz'd, 
 And treason prais'd and organized — 
 I have known some Britons very hearty 
 
 In eulogies on B , 
 
 Rebels and convicts face to face. 
 
 With senators in close embrace; 
 
 I have read of, but with so much wonder, 
 
 1 think the stories are a blunder. 
 
 I have heard loud pedantry descant 
 
 lu trupes and metaphor ic rant ;
 
 144* 
 
 Where feeble meanings sink and die, 
 Whirlpool'd in phraseology: 
 And when I felt my aching breast 
 With motley woes like these imprest, 
 Too sad to laugh, too proud to weep, 
 One only wish I felt — to sleep! 
 
 A SAD
 
 143 
 
 A fl ID CASK. 
 
 Sri sits of Coleridge, Soulhey, Charlotte Smith; 
 
 Sorrow's most faithful secretaries, come; 
 This is an enterprise of mickle pith, 
 
 And scorns my muse so feeble and hum-drum. 
 
 See, on this mound of grass, in tatter* d vest, 
 Spotted Francisca lies, and from her lap 
 
 The puling infant falls, as badly drest 
 As her poor mother, without hat or cap. 
 
 many a cup since the bright morn arose, 
 Of sprightly Juniper, Francisca empty 'd ; 
 
 beadle knows the vigour of her blows— 
 The parish ail the frauds she has attempted !
 
 146 
 
 Cunning, yet stupid — lazy, yet alert; 
 
 Careless, tho' selfish ; arrogant, tho' civil : 
 At once attach'd to finery and dirt, 
 
 A beggar, sober; and, when drunk, a devil! 
 
 TO
 
 147 
 
 tTRIOTS. 
 
 Vr. self-appointed Legislators, 
 
 hilosopbic in your natures; 
 And eke, ye representing elves, 
 So much attached — to your own selves! 
 Who* re silent in a certain house. 
 But love in taverns to carouse, 
 And utter stnthnents so hearty 
 In praise of tnembets of the party, 
 And most intrepidly attack 
 A Minister — behind his back! 
 At the sore place* of the state, 
 Like flies you stick, and the sound parts 
 You leave to really British hearts, 
 Whilst you deplore the nation 'ost, 
 la tats of words tempestuous tost, 
 i. %
 
 148 
 
 Which the next wave must overwhelm 
 Because — you are not at the helm! 
 Immers'd in philosophic cant, 
 And mock-humanity and rant, 
 The poor and ignorant you. bewitch 
 With the foul envy of the rich ; 
 And, in a strain of pity cry, 
 ' All hopes of safety are gone by;. 
 No drop of comfort can be found 
 Upon one inch of English ground.*' 
 I wish you all in Newgate-street — 
 One drop, perhaps, you there may meet; 
 Which, if apply 'd, will soon occasion 
 Comfort to me and all the nation ! 
 
 TO
 
 140 
 
 i ...US MODE UN EVITE8. 
 
 Ik antient Greece, we know the ' Nude' 
 Was scientist -illy pursu'd ; 
 In public stood full many a goddess 
 Without * a 'kerchief, or a boddice ; 
 Such charms celestial could defy, 
 And blind at once the critic's eye* 
 Thus now a lady at a ball, 
 
 N wealth is merely personal. 
 If she is pretty, gay, and young. 
 Displays ber charms the beaus among, 
 Whilst all can read, iu her soft eye, 
 4 Bosoms to sell; ah, who will bu> t 
 
 When 
 
 * Gracm rts «*t nihil tcUre. — Winy. I U, c. 5.
 
 150 
 
 When Madam, of a certain age r 
 Yields to this all-unstripping rage, 
 And shews to the amaz'd beholders 
 Her ample back, and brawny shoulders,! 
 And, by her plenteous lack of dress, 
 Shews hei thin neck quite bosomless; 
 Since no sound motive can direct her, 
 (So far, at least, as I conjecture) 
 No hopes from gentle love entice her, 
 I wish her modester and wiser 1 
 
 A P0L1-
 
 1)1 
 
 A POLITICAL CREED. 
 
 What tho' I quarrel with my friends, 
 They've ceas'd to answer my own ends I 
 1 then dismiss them to give scope 
 To my broad plans, en philanthrope. 
 Men of contracted notions say — 
 No King, uo God, I will obey; 
 I am no courtier and no saint, 
 My energies disdain restraint. 
 What tbo', to mend my state in life, 
 To a rich friend I lend my wit*- ; 
 Dull laws — not I am then to blame; 
 Did not great Cato do the same ? 
 What tbo' 1 starve my only son ; 
 Your Roman Fathers more have done. 
 Sage Rousseau's children, one and all, 
 Were plac'd in Foundling Hospital !
 
 152 
 
 "What tho* all Ministers 1 hate — 
 
 'Tis ev'ry real Patriot's fate : 
 
 Brutus did so, and Cataline, 
 
 Or how cowld one's own friends get in. 
 
 The People never find us out 
 
 'Till we are in — and then, no doubt, 
 
 We drown their threats and their reproaches 
 
 In the brisk rattling of our coaches: 
 
 "Who scorns these maxims is an oaf, 
 
 And all things but ' un philosophc.' 
 
 f I N I s. 
 
 t t. FLUMMER, PRINTER, SEETHIUG-LAN*
 
 
 ODES 
 
 or 
 
 «4JV*4CREOJV.
 
 S. Gosnell, Printer, 
 Little Queen Street, Holborn.
 
 ■ ' 
 
 ANA.K P C ON
 
 ro Dlr 
 
 or 
 
 . / JV .1 C R E O JV, 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VEB6E, 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 ■T 
 
 THOMAS MOORE, ESQ. 
 
 Or Tilt MIDDLE TBMrLB. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. II. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 raiNTtD roa i. ciirixTia, oto rohd strut. 
 
 1805.
 
 ODES 
 
 OF 
 
 dJV^iCREOJV. 
 
 ODE XXXVI. 
 
 I p hoarded gold possess'd a power 
 To lengthen life's too fleeting hour, 
 And purchase from the hand of death 
 A little span, a moment's breath, 
 
 FoafcneDe his emulated this ode. in hi* dialogue 
 between Anacreon and Arutotlc in the shades, whete be be* 
 •low* (he priae of wisdom upon the poet. 
 
 ♦' The Cciman imitator* of it arc, Leasing, in his poem 
 ■ Getter n Bruder, Jtc/ Cleim, in the ode • An den Tod/ 
 and Schmidt, in der Poet. Blumenl. Coiling. 1783, p. 7." 
 Dcgen. 
 
 VOL. II. M Mow
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 How I would love the precious ore ! 
 
 And every day should swell my store ; 
 
 That when the Fates would send their minion, 
 
 To waft me off on shadowy pinion, 
 
 I might some hours of life obtain, 
 
 And bribe him back to hell again. 
 
 But, since we ne'er can charm away 
 
 The mandate of that awful day, 
 
 Why do we vainly weep at fate, 
 
 And sigh for life's uncertain date ? 
 
 The light of gold can ne'er illume 
 
 The dreary midnight of the tomb ! 
 
 That •when the Fates "mould send their minion, 
 
 To -waft me off on shadowy pinion, Sfc] The commentators, 
 who are so fond of disputing " de lana caprina," have been 
 very busy on the authority of the phrase h av Sxmv twexOu. 
 The reading of Jy on ®amros rxtxQn, which De Medenbach 
 proposes in his Amoenitates Litterariae, was already hinted by 
 I-e Fevre, who seldom suggests any thing worth notice. 
 
 And
 
 ODKS OP AXACRBON. 
 
 And why should I then pant for treasures? 
 c the brilliant round of pleasures; 
 goblet rich, the board of friends, 
 Whose flowing souls the goblet blends ! 
 Mine be the nymph, whose form repose* 
 Seductive on that bed of roses ; 
 And oh 1 be mine the sonl's excess, 
 Expiring in her warm caress ! 
 
 TU i*Mtt rich, tht U*rd tf fr'unM, 
 
 HHttu JLrartng mJt tk* pllti bUmJi.'] Thw communion of 
 friendship, which sweetened (he bowl of Anacrcon, has not 
 been forgotten by the author of the following scholium, where 
 the btrs si n gs of We are enumerated with proverbial simplicity. 
 Ttftmmn fun mfift m»ift W*. Aiwrifow it, uXw fmm 
 ytnt^m. Tsrssmle, srX*rm *Z*Xm. Ks< r« nrsyro*, rvntCa* 
 0mm tm piXm. 
 
 Of mortal hlrainp here, the first is health, 
 And neat, those charms by which the c>c we more; 
 
 The third is wealth, unwounding guiltless wealth, 
 And then, an intercourse with those we love*. 
 
 B 2 OOB
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XXXVII. 
 
 T was night, and many a circling bowl 
 Had deeply warm'd my swimming soul ; 
 As lull'd in slumber I was laid, 
 Bright visions o'er my fancy play'd ! 
 
 With 
 
 " Compare with this ode the beautiful poem ' der Traum' 
 of Uz." Degen. 
 
 Monsieur Le Fevre, in a note upon this ode, enters into an 
 elaborate and learned justification of drunkenness ; and this 
 is probably the cause of the severe reprehension, which I be- 
 lieve he suffered for his Anacreon. " Fuit olim fateor (says 
 he in a note uponLonginus), cum Sapphonem amabam. Sed 
 ex quo ilia me perditissima foemina pene miserum perdidit cum 
 sceleratissimo suo congerrone (Anacreontem dico, si nescis, 
 Lector), noli sperare, &c. &c." He adduces on this ode the 
 authority of Plato, who allowed ebriety, at the Dionysian 
 festivals, to men arrived at their fortieth year. He likewise 
 quotes the following line from Alexis, which he says no one, 
 
 who
 
 ODES OP ANACREOW. 
 
 h . irgtns, blooming as the dawn, 
 I sccm'd to trace the opening lawn } 
 
 t, on tiptoe bath'd in dew, 
 We flew, and sported as we flew ! 
 Some ruddy striplings, young and sleek, 
 With blush of Bacchus on their cheek, 
 Saw me trip the flowery wild 
 With dimpled girls, and slily smil'd ; 
 Smil'd indeed with wanton glee, 
 But, ah ! 't was plain they envied me. 
 And still I flew— and now I caught 
 The panting nymphs, and fondly thought 
 To kiss — when all my dream of joys, 
 Dimpled girls and ruddy boys, 
 
 Al 
 
 who it not totally ignorant of the world, can hesitate to 
 (cm the truth of: 
 
 " No lover of drinking was ever a vicious man." 
 • S
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 All were gone ! " Alas !" I said, 
 
 Sighing for th' illusions fled, 
 
 " Sleep ! again my joys restore, 
 
 " Oh ! let me dream them o'er and o'er 1" 
 
 — when all my dream of joys, 
 Dimpled girls and ruddy boys, 
 
 All -were gone /] ■*' Nonnus says of Bacchus, almost in the 
 same words that Anacreon uses, 
 
 n^Sjyoy «x' £x/j£i)<«, xah ilStXsy avQis lotvuv." 
 
 Waking, he lost the phantom's charms, 
 
 He found no beauty in his arms ; 
 
 Again to slumber he essay'd, 
 
 Again to clasp the shadowy maid ! Longepierre. 
 
 " (Sleep ! again my joys restore, 
 
 " Oh! let me dream them o'er and o'er!"'} Doctor Johnson, 
 in his preface to Shakespeare, animadverting upon the com- 
 mentators of that poet, who pretended, in every little coinci- 
 dence of thought, to detect an imitation of some ancient 
 poet, alludes in the following words to the line of Anacreon 
 before us : " I have been told that when Caliban, after a 
 pleasing dream, says, ' I cried to sleep again,' the author 
 imitates Anacreon, who had, like any other naan, the same 
 wish on the same occasion." 
 
 ODE
 
 ODPS OP AXACREOM. 
 
 ODE XXXVITT. 
 
 Let us drain the nectar'd bowl, 
 Let us raise the song of sou! 
 To him, the God who lores so well 
 The nectar'd bowl, the choral swell ! 
 Him, who instructs the sons of earth 
 To ihrid the tangled dance of mirth ; 
 Him, who was nurs'd with infant Love 
 And cradled in the Paphian grove j 
 Him, that the snowy Queen of Charms 
 Has fondled in her twining arms. 
 
 From 
 
 •• Compare with dm beautiful ode the vera* of Hegedoro, 
 he, «. d» GeetibcboftUcbe ; and of lUrger, p. 51, Ac. *c" 
 Defteo. 
 
 Him, tkit tkt tmmy Qmttn if Ckirmt 
 
 IkaftiULJ >• ktr twimmg arms.] Robcttclltu, upon the epi- 
 * 4 thalanuum
 
 I© ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 From him that dream of transport flows, 
 Which sweet intoxication knows ; 
 With him, the brow forgets to darkle, 
 And brilliant graces learn to sparkle. 
 Behold 1 my boys a goblet bear, 
 Whose sunny foam bedews the air. 
 Where are now the tear, the sigh ? 
 To the winds they fly, they fly ! 
 Grasp the bowl ; in nectar sinking, 
 Man of sorrow, drown thy thinking ! 
 Oh ! can the tears we lend to thought 
 In life's account avail us aught? 
 Can we discern, with all our lore, 
 The path we 're yet to journey o'er ? 
 
 thalamium of Catullus, mentions an ingenious derivation of 
 Cytherea, the name of Venus, xatxpoc ro xtvOuv tut ymt, 
 which seems to hint that " Love's fairy favours aie lost, when 
 not concealed." 
 
 No,
 
 ODBS OP ANACREON. II 
 
 the walk of life is dark ; 
 alone can strike a spark ! 
 
 Ka, m ! tkt -walk •/ lift it Atrl ; 
 
 Tii win* mhmt cam itrikt m tpsrl f] The brevity of life al- 
 lows argument* tor the voluptuary as well as the moralist. 
 Among many parallel passages which Longepierre has adduced, 
 1 shall content my*elf with this epigram from the Anthologist 
 
 A«*v"*«i, ny«lint, mvmmwmfUim, ami rot mafmrmt 
 
 E>— A»*»» wrti— * t^ti^—mt mfm/uru. 
 P«i»i • jfmifmmm ifi Bit. urm rm Xairm 
 
 r+fm* mmXtmi, mm* rm rtXoi immmrmt. 
 
 Of which the following is a loose paraphrase : 
 
 Fly, my belov'd, to yonder stream, 
 We '11 plunge us from the noontide beam \ 
 Then cull the rose's humid bud, 
 And dip it m our goblet's flood. 
 Our age of bliss, my nymph, shall fly, 
 A* sweet, though passing as that sigh, 
 Which seems to whisper o'er your lip, 
 44 Come, while you may, of rapture sip." 
 For age will steal the rosy form, 
 And chill the pulse which trembles warm ! 
 And death— alas ! that hearts, which thru! 
 l yours aad muse, should e'er be still ! 
 
 Then
 
 Ii ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Then let me quaff the foamy tide, 
 
 And through the dance meandering glide; 
 
 Let me imhibe the spicy breath 
 
 Of odours chaf 'd to fragrant death ; 
 
 Or from the kiss of love inhale 
 
 A more voluptuous, richer gale ! 
 
 To souls, that court the phantom Care, 
 
 Let him retire and shroud him there ; 
 
 While we exhaust the nectar'd bowl, 
 
 And swell the choral song of soul 
 
 To him, the God who loves so well 
 
 The nectar'd bowl, the choral swell ! 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES Or ANACRSOH. I 3 
 
 ODE XXXIX. 
 
 Xlow I love the festive boy, 
 Tripping wild the dance of joy ! 
 How I love the mellow sage, 
 Smiling through the veil of age ! 
 And whene'er this man of years 
 In the dance of joy appears, 
 Age is on his temples hung, 
 But his heart — bis heart is young ! 
 
 Aft it M fil templtt htag, 
 
 Bmt hit ktmrt—kh ht*rt it jtmmgf) Saint Pa\in make* the 
 unc distinction in a sonnet to a young girl : 
 
 Je sais bicn que les deitinecs 
 Ont mal com p ass ft not annecs, 
 Kc regardca que moo amour. 
 
 Peut-ltrc en screx vous cmuc, 
 II est jcune ct n'est que du jour. 
 Belle Ins que je nous ai tu. 
 
 Pair
 
 14 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Fair and young, thou bloomest now, 
 And I full many a year have told ; 
 
 But read the heart and not the brow, 
 Thou shalt not find my love is old. 
 
 My love 's a child ; and thou canst say 
 How much his little age may be, 
 
 For he was born the very day 
 That first I set my eyes on thee ! 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. J 5 
 
 ODE XL. 
 
 I know that Heaven ordains me here, 
 To run this mortal life's career ; 
 The scenes which I have journictl o'er, 
 Return no more — alas ! no more ; 
 And all the path I 've yet to go, 
 I neither know nor ask to know. 
 Then surely, Care, thou canst not twine 
 Thy fetters round a soul like mine ; 
 No, no ! the heart that feels with me, 
 Can never be a slave to thee ! 
 
 And 
 
 h'u m» ! ikt k—rt tkmt ft tit wilk mt. 
 
 Cm mr—r *# m tUr* H ii*t .') Longcpicm quote* an 1 
 here from the Anihologia, 00 account of the similarity of a 
 particular phrase; it is by no means Anacreontic, but hat an 
 
 interesting
 
 l6 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 And oh ! before the vital thrill, 
 Which trembles at my heart, is still, 
 I '11 gather Joy's luxuriant flowers, 
 And gild with bliss my fading hours \ 
 Bacchus shall hid my winter bloom, 
 And Venus dance me to the tomb ! 
 
 interesting simplicity, which induced me to paraphrase it, and 
 may atone for its intrusion. 
 
 EXitis xai ov rv%n /Acfac yytiftrt. rot X/^iiy' Isjjoy. 
 Ovhu t/AQi %' v/u.n. era/£sTi ras /Air tfAt. 
 
 At length to Fortune, and to you, 
 Delusive Hope ! a last adieu. 
 The charm that once begutl'd is o'er, 
 And I have reach'd my destin'd shore. 
 Away, away ! your flattering arts 
 May now betray some simpler hearts, 
 And you will smile at their believing, 
 And they shall weep at your deceiving ! 
 
 Bacchus shall bid my -winter bloom, 
 
 And Venus dance me to //re tomb /] The same commentator 
 has quoted an epitaph, written upon our poet by Julian, 
 where he makes him give the precepts of good fellowship even 
 from the tomb; 
 
 2 IloXXotxi
 
 OOBS OP ANACBKOH. 17 
 
 I Ic xxj.i f*n t»3" «i»«, mi in rvfiCa 3* Am u 
 
 I I. tin, « r -»» rwrn «/**iC«Jkt»#6« «Otif. 
 
 Tbb lesson oft in life I wing, 
 
 i from my grate 1 Mitt 4*11 cry, 
 Hbi mortal ! drink, while time is young, 
 " Ere death has made thee cold m I." 
 
 ODE
 
 1 8 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLI. 
 
 When Spring begems the dewy scene, 
 How sweet to walk the velvet green. 
 And hear the Zephyr's languid sighs, 
 As o'er the scented mead he flies ! 
 How sweet to mark the pouting vine, 
 Ready to fall in tears of wine j 
 And with the maid, whose every sigh 
 Is love and bliss, enlranc'd to lie 
 
 "Where 
 
 And toith the maid, "whose every sigh 
 Is love and bliss, fife] Thus Horace: 
 
 Quid habes illius, illius 
 Quae spirabat amores, 
 Quae me surpuerat mihi. Book iv. Ode 13. 
 
 And
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. I 9 
 
 re the imbowcring branches meet — 
 it not this divinely sweet ? 
 
 And does there then remain but this, 
 
 And bast thou lost each rosy ray 
 Of her, who breath 'd the soul of bliss, 
 
 And stole roe from myself away ! 
 
 VOL. II. C MM
 
 20 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLII. 
 
 Yes, be the glorious revel mine, 
 Where humour sparkles from the wine ! 
 Around me, let the youthful choir 
 Respond to my beguiling lyre ; 
 And while the red cup circles round, 
 Mingle in soul as well as sound ! 
 Let the bright nymph, with trembling eye. 
 Beside me all in blushes lie j 
 
 And, 
 
 The character of Anacrecn is here very stiikingly depicted. 
 His love of social, harmonized pleasures, is expressed with a 
 warmth, amiable and endearing. Among the epigrams im- 
 puted to Anacreon is the following ; it is the only one worth 
 translation, and it breathes the same sentiments with this ode : 
 
 Ov piXo$, of xfnriift isctpct niXtu oivoitora^vi, 
 
 Ne/xiix xai •EToXt/U.ov %a.xfvourai Xc<yn. 
 Axx' orir Mwn ts, xai ay\aa Sa^' Appotiir-nt 
 
 £v/4/uicT7Coy, tpttrris ^ywxt-nxi tvtf>pavnr\s. 
 
 When
 
 ODE% OF ANACREO*. 21 
 
 And, while she weaves a frontlet fair 
 Of hyacinth to deck my hair, 
 Oh ! let me snatch her sidelong kisses, 
 And that shall be my bliss of blisses ! 
 My soul, to festive feeling true, 
 One pang of envy never knew ; 
 And little has it learn 'd to dread 
 The gall that envy's tongue can sht . 
 Away — I hate the slanderous dart, 
 Which steals to wound th' unwary heart ; 
 And oh ! I hate, with all my soul, 
 Discordant clamours e'er the bow 1, 
 
 Wbco to the lip the brimming cup in prcst, 
 And hearts arc all afloat upon the stream ; 
 
 Then banuh from my board th' unpobah'd guest, 
 Who makes the feats of wax his barbarous theme. 
 
 But bring the man, whoo'er his goblet wreathes 
 The Muse's laurel with the Cyprian flower , 
 
 Oh ! gttc me him, who»e heart expansive breathes 
 All the refinements of the social hour. 
 
 c 2 Where
 
 22 ODES OF ANACiEON. 
 
 ■ i i i i n - 
 
 Where every cordial heart should be 
 Attun'd to peace and harmony. 
 Come, let us hear the soul of song 
 Expire the silver harp along ; 
 And through the dance's ringlet move, 
 With maidens mellowing into love: 
 Thus simply happy, thus at peace, 
 Sure such a life should never cease ! 
 
 ODE
 
 ODBi Of ANACRION. 2j 
 
 ODE XLIIL 
 
 While our rosy fillets shed 
 Blushet o'er each fervid head, 
 With many a cup and many a smile 
 The festal moments we beguile. 
 And while the harp, impassion'd, fling* 
 Tuneful rapture from the strings, 
 
 Some 
 
 Ami wkiit tht mtrp, impattmn'J, Jlitgt 
 
 Twmtfkl rtpimrt frmm lit tfrimgt, Vt."\ On the barbital an 
 heat of authorities may be collected, which, after all, leave 
 m ignorant of the nature of the instrument. Th< 
 scarcely any point upon which we are so totally uninformed 
 as the music of the ancients. The authors •, extant upon the 
 •abject, are, I imagine, little understood ; but certainly if one 
 of their moods was a p ro gr es si o n by quarter-tones, which we 
 are told was the nature of the enharmonic scale, 
 •rat by no means the characteristic of their melody j for : 
 
 • Collected by Mcibomie*. 
 
 r i a n • r 

 
 24 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Some airy nymph, with fluent limbs, 
 Through the dance luxuriant swims, 
 Waving, in her snowy hand, 
 The leafy Bacchanalian wand, 
 Which, as the tripping wanton flies, 
 Shakes its tresses to her sighs ! 
 A youth the while, with loosen'd hair, 
 Floating on the listless air, 
 Sings, to the wild harp's tender tone, 
 A tale of woes, alas ! his own ; 
 And then, what nectar in his sigh, 
 As o'er his lip the murmurs die ! 
 
 Surely 
 
 a nicety of progression, of which modern music is not suscep- 
 tible. 
 
 The invention of the barbiton is, by Athenxus, attributed 
 to Anacreon. See his fourth book, where it is called ro Jvp/*« 
 T« AyaxfeovToj. Neanthes of Cyzicus, as quoted by Gyraldus, 
 asserts the same. Vide Chabot. in Horat. on the words M Les- 
 boum barbiton," in the first ode. 
 
 And
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 25 
 
 ■ — — ^— — . — — — —— — — ^—— 
 
 Surely never yet has been 
 
 divine, so blest a scene ! 
 I In Cupid left the starry sphere, 
 To wave his golden tresses here ? 
 
 Oh 
 
 Ami iken, vAt/ mectsr in kit ti)>k, 
 
 A* •'tr hit tip ih* mmrmtmrt Mt f] Loogtpict re hat quoted here 
 an epigram from the Anthologia : 
 
 Kap* ti» ft,' ie-iX*ct ■i O s mms x* ,Xt ^" *7P"- 
 Stmrf vm ts ptX^fiM. r« yef (***« »i«r«fe« ***ii. 
 N»r ^mOvm ts £-i*vm, ws&s* r*> iftrra titnw. 
 
 Of which the following may give tome idea : 
 
 The kiss that she left on my lip* 
 Like a dew-drop shall lingering lie ; 
 
 T waa nectar she gave me to sip, 
 T was nectar I drank in her sight 
 
 The dew that distill'd in that kiss, 
 
 To my soul was voluptuous wine ; 
 Em since it is diunk with the bliss, 
 
 And feels a delirium di* inc ! 
 
 //j| QmfU If/t tht lUrrj tpktrt, 
 
 T» www Am fldtm trttut htrtf] The intro d uc ti on of these 
 
 deities tb the festival is merely allegorical. Madame Dacicr 
 
 ■ 4 thinks
 
 *6 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 Oh yes ! and Venus, queen of wiles, 
 And Bacchus, shedding rosy smiles, 
 All, all are here, to hail with me 
 The genius of festivity ! 
 
 thinks that the poet describes a masquerade, where these 
 deities were personated by the company in masks. The trans- 
 lation will conform with either idea. 
 
 All, all are here, to hail -with me 
 
 The genius of festivity /] Kw^o*, the deity or genius of 
 mirth. Philostratus, in the third of his pictures (as all the 
 annotators have observed) , gives a very beautiful description 
 of this god. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES O* ANACRFOM. 
 
 ODE XLIV. 
 
 Buds of roses, virgin flowers, 
 Cull'd from Cupid's balmy bowers, 
 In the bowl of Bacchus steep, 
 Till with crimson drops they weep ! 
 Twine the rose, the garland twine, 
 Every leaf distilling wine; 
 Drink and smile, and learn to think 
 That we were born to smile and drink. 
 
 This spirited poem i« an eulogy on the rose ; and again, in 
 the fifty-fifth ode, we shall find our author rich in the poise* 
 of that tower. In a fragment of Sappho, in die romance of 
 Achilles Taiius, to which Barnes refer* u*. the rose is very 
 elegantly styled " i he eye of flower* ; and the same poetess, 
 in another fragment, calls the favours of the Mote " the 
 roses of Pleria." See the notes on the fifty-fif.h ode. 
 
 *• Compare with this forty-fourth ode ,'sajs the German sn- 
 oot ator) the beautiful ode of Vi die Rose." 
 
 K SO '
 
 28 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Rose ! thou art the sweetest flower 
 
 That ever drank the amber shower; 
 
 Rose ! thou art the fondest child 
 
 Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild ! 
 
 Even the Gods, who walk the sky, 
 
 Are amorous of thy scented sigh. 
 
 Cupid too, in Paphian shades, 
 
 His hair with rosy fillet braids, 
 
 When with the blushing, naked Graces, 
 
 The wanton winding dance he traces. 
 
 Then bring me, showers of roses bring, 
 
 And shed them round me while I sing ; 
 
 Great Bacchus ! in thy hallow'd shade, 
 
 With some celestial, glowing maid, 
 
 While 
 
 If 'hen "with the blushing, naked Graces, 
 
 The -wanton -winding dance he traces .] " This sweet idea of 
 Love dancing with the Graces, is almost peculiar to Anacreon." 
 Degen. 
 
 With some celestial, glowing maid, &fc] The epithetfJafWoXirof, 
 
 which
 
 ODES OP AKACJUtON. 2q 
 
 While gales of roses round me rise, 
 In perfume, sweeten'd by her sighs, 
 I II bill and twine in airy dance, 
 Commingling soul with every glance ! 
 
 which he gives to the nymph, U literally " full-bosomed :" if 
 thit was really Anacreoo's taste, the heaven of Mahomet 
 would suit him in every particular. See the Koran, cap. 71. 
 
 ODE
 
 30 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLV. 
 
 Within this goblet, rich and deep, 
 
 I cradle all my woes to sleep. 
 
 Why should we breathe the sigh of fear, 
 
 Or pour the unavailing tear ? 
 
 For death will never heed the sigh, 
 
 Nor soften at the tearful eye j 
 
 And eyes that sparkle, eyes that weep, 
 
 Must all alike be seal'd in sleep j 
 
 Then let us never vainly stray, 
 
 In search of thorns, from pleasure's way ; 
 
 Oh! 
 
 Thtn let us never vainly stray, 
 
 In search of thorns, from pleasure's "way ; &"c] I have thus 
 endeavoured to convey the meaning of ti St tov f3ioy vs>.xiuf4.ai ; 
 according to Regnier's paraphrase of the line : 
 
 i E che
 
 ODES OF A * AC R EON. 31 
 
 Oh ! let us quaff the rosy wave, 
 Which Bacchus loves, which Bacchus gave; 
 And in the goblet, rich and deep, 
 Cradle our crying woes to sleep I 
 
 E cbe val, fuor tfclla strada 
 Del piacerc alma e pradita, 
 in quc»u vita? 
 
 OD£
 
 3* 
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLVI. 
 
 See the young, the rosy Spring, 
 Gives to the breeze her spangled wing ; 
 While virgin- Graces, warm with May, 
 Fling roses o'er her dewy way ! 
 
 The 
 
 The fastidious affectation of some commentators has de- 
 nounced this ode as spurious. Degen pronounces the four last 
 lines to be the patch- work of some miserable versificator, and 
 Brunck condemns the whole ode. It appears to me to be 
 elegantly graphical ; full of delicate expressions and luxuriant 
 imagery. The abruptness of 'ISt rsus tapos Qaiiiiros is striking 
 .and spirited, and has been imitated rather languidly by Horace ; 
 
 Vides ut alta stet nive candidum 
 Soracte — 
 
 The imperative iSt is infinitely more impressive, as in 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, 
 Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. 
 
 There
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 33 
 
 The murmuring billows of the deep 
 Have languish'^ into silent sleep; 
 And mark ! the flitting sea-birds lave 
 Their plumes in the reflecting wavej 
 
 While 
 
 There U a simple and poetical description of Spring, in 
 Catullus'* beautiful farewell 10 Bithynia. Carm. 44. 
 
 Barnes conjectures, in his life of our poet, that this ode 
 was written after he had returned from Athens, to settle in 
 his paternal teat at Teas ; there, in a little villa at some dis- 
 tance from the city, which commanded a view of the i£gean 
 Sea and the islands, he contemplated the beauties of nature 
 and enjoyed the felicities of retirement. Vide Barnes, in 
 Anac. vita, § uir. This supposition, however unauthen- 
 ticaied, forms a pleasant association, which makes the poem 
 more interesting. 
 
 Monsieur Cbevrean says, that Gregory Naaian-cnus baa 
 paraphrased somewhere this description of Spring ; I cannot 
 find it. Sec Chevreau (Euvres Melees. 
 
 " Compate with this ode (says Degen) the verses of 
 liagedorn, book fourth der Fruhling, and book fifth del 
 Mai." 
 
 Wlilt v«>x«a Grtttt, v«r« wi/i M*r, 
 
 FBmg run •tr ktr irwy vwv/J Dc Pauw reads, Xspru 
 fsln &f**>; " the rosea display tbeix gracci." This is not 
 
 wtlngvnuus;
 
 34 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 While cranes from hoary winter fly 
 To flutter in a kinder sky. 
 Now the genial star of day 
 Dissolves the murky clouds away ; 
 And cultur'd field, and winding stream, 
 Are sweetly tissued by his beam. 
 Now the earth prolific swells 
 With leafy buds and flowery bells \ 
 Gemming shoots the olive twine, 
 Clusters ripe festoon the vine ; 
 
 ttningenious ; but we lose by it the beauty of the personifi- 
 cation, to the boldness of which Regnier has objected, very 
 frivolously. 
 
 The murmuring billotvs of the deep 
 
 Have languish' d into silent sleep ; &c."] It has been justly 
 remarked, that the liquid flow of the line airaXtmrou 7«x»>vu is 
 perfectly expressive of the tranquillity which it describes. 
 
 And cultur'd field, and -winding stream, &V.] By /Sjjotoiv e/>7«» 
 M the works of men (says Baxter), he means cities, templts, 
 and towns, which are then illuminated by the beams of the 
 sun." 
 
 AU
 
 ODES OP ANACftBOft. 35 
 
 All along the branches creeping, 
 Through the velvet foliage peeping, 
 Li tile infant fruits we see 
 Nursing into luxury ! 
 
 VOL. 11. n ODK
 
 36 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLVII. 
 
 1 is true, ray fading years decline,' 
 Yet I can quaff the brimming wine, 
 As deep as any stripling fair, 
 Whose cheeks the flush of morning wear ; 
 And if, amidst the wanton crew, 
 I 'm call'd to wind the dance's clue, 
 Thou shalt behold this vigorous hand, 
 Not faltering on the Bacchant's wand, 
 But brandishing a rosy flask, 
 The only thyrsus e'er I '11 ask ! 
 
 Let 
 
 But brandishing a rosy fasl, ©r.] Airxot was a kind of lea- 
 thern vessel for wine, very much in use, as should seem by 
 the proverb auxos x*» SuXrxxo*, which was applied to those who 
 were intemperate in eating and drinking. This proverb is men- 
 
 <; tioned
 
 ©DBS OF ANACRBON. 37 
 
 TT^W W »i — w ■■■— — — i ■ ■ 
 
 Let those, who pant for Glory's charms, 
 her in the field of arms ; 
 ilc my inglorious, placid soul 
 Breathes not a wish beyond the bowl. 
 Then fill it high, my ruddy slave, 
 And bathe me in its honied wave 1 
 For though my fading years decay, 
 And though my bloom has pass'd away, 
 Like old Silenus, sire divine, 
 With blushes borrow'd from my wine, 
 I '11 wanton 'mid the dancing train, 
 And live my follies all again ! 
 
 timed in some verses quoted by Alhensos, from (be Hcsione 
 sfAki 
 
 Tk mfy ikyrtmt t'tr I'll *tkf] Phoi nutus assigns as a reason 
 for the consecration of the thjmus to Bacchus, that inebriety 
 often reader* the support of a stick very necessary. 
 
 D 2 ODE
 
 38 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLVIII. 
 
 When my thirsty soul I steep, 
 Every sorrow's lull'd to sleep. 
 Talk of monarchs ! I am then 
 Richest, happiest, first of men ; 
 Careless o'er my cup I sing, 
 Fancy makes me more than king ; 
 Gives me wealthy Croesus' store, 
 Can I, can I wish for more ? 
 On my velvet couch reclining, 
 Ivy leaves my brow entwining, 
 
 Ivy /eaves my brow entraining, &f<?.] " The ivy was conse- 
 crated to Bacchus (says Montfaucon), because he formerly lay 
 hid under that tree, or, as others will have it, because its 
 leaves resemble those of the vine." Other reasons for its con- 
 secration, and the use of it in garlands at banquets, may be 
 found in Longepierre, Barnes, &c. &c. 
 
 While
 
 ODES OP ANACRBON. 39 
 
 Wl loul dilates with glee* 
 
 king? and crowns to mc ? 
 If before my feet they lay, 
 I would spurn them all away ! 
 Arm you, arm you, men of might, 
 Hasten to the sanguine fight ; 
 Let me, oh my budding vine, 
 Spill no other blood than thine. 
 Yonder brimming goblet see, 
 That alone shall vanquish me. 
 Oh ! I think it sweeter far 
 To fall in banquet than in war ! 
 
 Arm r*a, mrm ym, mtm tf might, 
 
 Huttm m lit M«pw«r Jtgki ;] 1 ha*e adopted the interpret- 
 ation of Regnier and others : 
 
 Aim aegoa Mane fcro ; 
 
 Cbe aol Bacco i 1 mio cenforto. 
 
 D 3 OOB
 
 40 QDES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE XLIX. 
 
 When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, 
 The rosy harbinger of joy, 
 Who, with the sunshine of the bowl, 
 Thaws the winter of our soul ; 
 
 This, the preceding ode, and a few mere of the same cha- 
 racter, are merely chansons a boire. Most likely they were 
 the effusions of the moment of conviviality, and were sung, 
 we imagine, with rapture in Greece; but that interesting 
 association, by which they always recalled the convivial emo- 
 tions that produced them, can be very little felt by the most 
 enthusiastic reader ; and much less by a phlegmatic gram, 
 marian, who sees nothing in them but dialects and particles. 
 
 Who, iolth the sunshine of the lotvl, 
 
 Tha-ws the winter of our soul ; &c] Avaws is the title which 
 he gives to Bacchus in the original. It is a curious circum- 
 stance, that Plutarch mistook the name of Levi among the 
 Jews for Atu» (one of the bacchanal cries), and accordingly 
 • supposed that they worshipped Bacchus. 
 
 When
 
 ODES OF AXiCREON. 4 I 
 
 my inmost core he glide*, 
 Anti bathes it with his ruby tides, 
 A Bow of joy, a lively heat, 
 HPct my brain, and wings my feet ! 
 T is surely something sweet, I think, 
 Nay, something heavenly sweet, to drink ! 
 Sing, sing of love, let music's breath 
 Softly beguile our rapturous death, 
 While, my young Venus, thou and I 
 To the voluptuous cadence die ! 
 Then waking from our languid trance, 
 Again we 'II sport, again we 'II dance. 
 
 O 4 ODE
 
 42 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE L. 
 
 When I drink, I feel, I feel, 
 Visions of poetic zeal ! 
 Warm with the goblet's fresh'ning dews, 
 My heart invokes the heavenly Muse. 
 
 When 
 
 Faber thinks this spurious ; but, I believe, he is singular in 
 his opinion. It has all the spirit of our author. Like the 
 wreath which he presented in the dream, " it smells of 
 Anacreon." 
 
 The form of this ode, in the original, is remarkable. It is 
 
 a kind of song of seven quatrain stanzas, each beginning with 
 
 the line 
 
 'Or* tyu «»w tov oivoy. 
 
 The first stanza alone is incomplete, consisting but of three 
 lines. 
 
 " Compare with this poem (says Degen) the verses of 
 Hagedom, lib. v. der Wein, where that divine poet has wan- 
 toned in the praises of wine." 
 
 When I drink, I feel, I feel, 
 
 Visions of poetit zeai f) " Anacreon is not the only one (says 
 
 Longepierre),
 
 ODES OP ANACREOX. 4.3 
 
 n I drink, my sorrow '$ o'er; 
 I think of doubts and fears no more; 
 But scatter to the railing wind 
 Each gloomy phantom of the mind ! 
 When I drink, the jesting boy 
 Bacchus himself partakes my joy; 
 And while we dance through breathing bowers, 
 Whose every gale is rich with flowers, 
 
 In 
 
 Longepierrc) , whom wine hi* inspired with poetry. There ta 
 an epigram in the first book of the Anthologia, which begins 
 that: 
 
 OiMf rt x«f<trri A"7" w*»*i •'**•• •••••, 
 
 *Y2«f it winm t ««Ao? • nstir Mrsr.** 
 
 If with water you fill up your classes. 
 
 You '11 never write any thing wise ; 
 For win* is the bone of Panumu-, 
 
 Which hurries a bard to the skies ! 
 
 Ani wkU* v* 4sSKV tknmgk irtafhimg *Wrr«, Ve .] If tOmt) 
 of the translators bad observed Doctor Trapp't caution, with 
 regard to sM&svssWir **' ** mfn, " Cave nc curium intelligas, w 
 thsy Mould not have spoiled the umplic ty of Anacrcoas)
 
 44 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 In bowls he makes my senses swim, 
 Till the gale breathes of nought but him \ 
 When I drink, I deftly twine 
 Flowers, begem'd with tears of wine ; 
 And, while with festive hand I spread 
 The smiling garland round my head, 
 Something whispers in my breast, 
 How sweet it is to live at rest ! 
 When I drink, and perfume stills 
 Around me all in balmy rills, 
 
 fancy, by such extravagant conceptions of the passage. Could 
 our poet imagine such bombast as the following ? 
 
 Quand je bois, mon ceil s'imagine 
 Que, dans un tourbillon plein de parfums divers, 
 Bacchus m' importe dans les airs, 
 Rempli de sa liqueur divine. 
 Or this : 
 
 Indi mi mena 
 Mentre lietro ebro deliro, 
 Bacco in giro 
 
 Per la va&a aura serena. 
 
 Then
 
 ODBi OP ANACRBOK. 45 
 
 en as some beauty, smiling roses, 
 In languor on my breast reposes, 
 
 is ! I breathe my vows to thee, 
 In many a sigh of luxury ! 
 When I drink, my heart refines, 
 And rises as the eup declines ; 
 Rises in the genial flow, 
 That none but social spirits know, 
 When youthful revellers, round the bowl, 
 Dilating, mingle soul with soul I 
 
 When 
 
 IVktnymlhful rrmtlhri, rtmmd tkt J*W, 
 
 DtUtiwg, mimgle mmi with mm' f] Subjoined to Gfttl'i edition 
 of Amctcoo, there uc •otne cunou* letter* upon the 0mm of 
 the ancient*, which appeared in the French Journal*. At the 
 opening of the Odeon in Park, the manager* of the ipecttck 
 ruqwt cd Pr o fca aor Gail to give them woe wiKwnmtm mom 
 for the fete* of thi* inttitotjo*. He auggamri tie word 
 « Thiaje," which wa» adopted ; but the literati of Pari* 
 qucitioncd the propriety of it, and addraacd their criucawn*
 
 46 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 When I drink, the bliss is mine; 
 There 's bliss in every drop of wine ! 
 All other joys that I have known, 
 I 've scarcely dar'd to call my own ; 
 But this the Fates can ne'er destroy, 
 Till death o'ershadows all my joy ! 
 
 to Gail through the medium of the public prints. Two or 
 three of the letters he has inserted in his edition, and they 
 have elicited from him some learned research on the subject. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OF ANACREOK. 47 
 
 ODE LI. 
 
 I f not thus my brow of snow, 
 Lovely wanton ! fly not so. 
 Though the wane of age is mine, 
 Though the brilliant flush is thine, 
 
 Still 
 
 Alberti has imitated this ode ; and Capilupu*, in the follow* 
 ing epigram, hat given a version of it 1 
 
 Cor, Lalage, mea vita, mcos contetnni* amorcs? 
 
 Cur fugi* e nostra pulchra puclia sinu ? 
 Ne fugiai , tint sparsa licet mea tempora canit, 
 
 Inqoe too rosea* rulgeat ore color. 
 Avpicc at intextas deceant <|uoque Bore c o ra l In 
 
 C an d ida purpuras lilim mista rosJa. 
 
 Oh ! why repd my soul's impassion'd vow. 
 And fly, beloved maid, these loafing inm ? 
 
 J* 11, that vrmtery time ha* strew'd my brow, 
 And thine arc all the summer's roseate charms f
 
 48 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 Still I 'm doom'd to sigh for thee, 
 Blest, if thou couldst sigh for me ! 
 See, in yonder flowery braid, 
 Cull'd for thee, my blushing maid, 
 How the rose, of orient glow, 
 Mingles with the lily's snow ; 
 Mark, how sweet their tints agree, 
 Just, my girl, like thee and me ! 
 
 See the rich garland, cull'd in vernal weather, 
 Where the. young rosebud with the lily glows ; 
 
 In wreaths of love we thus may twine together, 
 And I will be the lily, thou the rose ! 
 
 See, in yonder flowery braid y 
 
 CuWdfor thee., my Mushing maid,'] ** In the same manner 
 that Anacreon pleads for the whiteness of his locks, from the 
 beauty of the colour in garlands, a shepherd, in Theocritus, 
 endeavours to recommend his black hair : 
 
 K«i to 10V fAiXav tfi, x«i at <yf«irra vaxivQas 
 AXX' i/j.vas » rots r« founts ret ngura Xi<yovT«i ." 
 
 Longepierre, Barnes, &c. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODBS OP ANACREOrt. A 1 ) 
 
 ODE LII. 
 
 Awat, away, you men of rules, 
 
 What ha\e I to do with schools ? 
 
 They'd make me learn, they'd make me think, 
 
 But would they make me love and drink ? 
 
 " This is doubtless the wotk of a more modern poet than 
 Arucreon : for at the period when he lived rhetoricians were 
 not known. Dcgcn. 
 
 Though the antiquity of this ode i* confirmed by the Vatican 
 manuscript, I am very much inclined to agree in this argu- 
 ment against its authenticity ; for though the dawnings of 
 rhetoric might already have appeared, the first who gave it 
 any celebrity was Corax of Syracuse, and he flourished in the 
 century ftivCi* Anftcrcoo* 
 
 Our poet anticipated the ideas of Epicurus, in hit aversion 
 to the labour* of learning, at well as his devotion to volup- 
 tuousness, rises* wa A mm sieasyisi Si h i ii , amid the philoso- 
 pher of the garden in a letter to ly nodes. 
 
 Teach
 
 50 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 jj— i . ". " "'J— — - — 
 
 Teach me this ; and let me swim 
 My soul upon the goblet's brim j 
 Teach me this, and let me twine 
 My arms around the nymph divine! 
 Age begins to blanch my brow, 
 I 've time for nought but pleasure now. 
 Fly, and cool my goblet's glow 
 At yonder fountain's gelid flow ; 
 
 Teach me this, and let me twine 
 
 My arms around the nymph divine!] By yrpvjrit Apf>oS;rn$ 
 here, I understand some beautiful girl, in the same manner 
 that Avxtot is often used for wine. " Golden" is frequently an 
 epithet of beauty. Thus in Virgil, " Venus aurea;" and in 
 Propertius, " Cynthia aurea." Tibullus, however, calls an 
 old woman, " golden." 
 
 The translation d'Autori Anonimi, as usual, wantons on 
 this passage of Anacreon : 
 
 E m'insegni con piu rare 
 Forme accorte d'involare 
 Ad amabile beltade 
 II bel cinto d' onestade. 
 
 I'll
 
 OOBS OP ANACREON. 5 1 
 
 I Ml quaff, my boy, and calmly sink 
 This soul to slumber as I drink ! 
 Soon, too soon, my jocund slave, 
 You Ml deck your master's grassy grave ; 
 And there 's an end— for ah ! you know 
 They drink but little wine below ! 
 
 Ami thtrt '$ mm tmi—f* mi! j*m law 
 
 Th»j Jrmk hu QtiU viw ktbmf] Thus the witty Mainard i 
 
 La Moct nous guctte ; ct quind tea lob 
 
 All 9C1H Q tlftC PQLMC DCOCOOQs?* 
 
 Adieu bona vina ct bon rcpat, 
 Ma science nc troure pas 
 Dea cabarets en 1'autrc monde. 
 
 Prom Mainard, Gombauld, and De Caiflj, old French 
 poets, some of the best epigrams of the English I 
 
 VOL. II. K ODJC
 
 52 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LIII. 
 
 Y\ hen I behold the festive train 
 
 Of dancing youth, I 'm young again ! 
 
 Memory wakes her magic trance, 
 
 And wings me lightly through the dance. 
 
 Come, Cybeba, smiling maid ! 
 
 Cull the flower and twine the braid ; 
 
 Bid the blush of summer's rose 
 
 Burn upon my brow of snows j 
 
 And 
 
 Bid the blush of summer's rose 
 
 Burn upon my bro-iv of snows ; cfc] Licetus, in his Hiero- 
 glyphica, quoting two of our poet's odes, where he calls for 
 garlands, remarks, ** Constat igitur floreas coronas poetis et 
 potantibus in symposio convenire non autem sapientibus et 
 philosophiam affectantibus." — " It appears that wreaths of 
 flowers were adapted for poets and revellers at banquets, but 
 by no means became those who had pretensions to wisdom and 
 4 philosophy."
 
 ODES OF ANACRBON. 
 
 And let me, while the wild and young I 
 Trip the maxy dance along, 
 Fling my heap of years away, 
 And be as wild, as young as tbey. 
 Hither haste, some cordial soul ! C 
 
 Give my lips the brimming bow 1 ; 
 Oh ! you will see this hoary sage 
 Forget his locks, forget bis age. 
 He still can chant the festive hymn, 
 He still can kiss the goblet's brim ; 
 
 philosophy." On ihit principle, in hi* i$*d chapter, be 
 diacowi a refinement in Virgil, describing the niUnd of the 
 poet Silcnus, m M'en off; which di*tingubhcs, be thinks, 
 the diwne intoxication of Silcnus from that of common 
 drunkards, who always wear their crowns while the* dunk. 
 1 his indeed, w the *« U*w incptiarum" of 
 
 lUttMcmm iia lit fiUr'i kim-, fi*V.J Wine is 
 by Galen, as an excellent medicine for old men 
 fiipdos et humoribus rxpletos calefociai, kc |" but Nature 
 
 a a AM
 
 54 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 He still can act the mellow raver, 
 And play the fool as sweet as ever ! 
 
 There is a proverb in Eriphus, as quoted by Athenaeus, 
 which says, " that wine makes an old man dance whether he 
 will or not." 
 
 Ao«yoj tf' apy/uos, « xaxus J X uy > 
 Oivov Xtyuai rtts yepovras, « tsrotTJf , 
 TTciOeiv ■xpftut « iiXotrms. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 55 
 
 ODE LIV. 
 
 Methimks, the pictur'd bull we see 
 Is amorous Jove — it must be he ! 
 How fondly blest he seems to bear 
 That fairest of Phoenician fair ! 
 
 " Tht« ode i» written upon a picture which n p r esent e d the 
 rape of Europe." Madame Deckr. 
 
 It may pcrhspe be considered as a description of one of 
 those coins, which the Sidonian* »tmck off in honour of Eu- 
 rope, representing a woman carried across the sea by a bull. 
 Thu« Nataln Comes, lib. viii. cap. 2). " Sidonii onmssmara 
 cum famine tauri dorao imidente ac mare transfreuntc, cu- 
 derunt in ejus bonorem." In the little treatise upon the sjod- 
 de«s of Syria, attributed very fahely to Loom, there b raen- 
 tionof this com, and of a temple dedicated by the Stdnmans to 
 Astarte, whom some, it appears, confounded with Europe. 
 
 MoKbua baa written a very beautiful idyll on the story of 
 Europe. 
 
 E 3 How
 
 56 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 How proud he breasts the foamy tide, 
 And spurns the billowy surge aside ! 
 Could any beast, of vulgar vein, 
 Undaunted thus defy the main ? 
 No : he descends from climes above, 
 He looks the God, he breathes of Jove 1 
 
 No: he descends from climes above, 
 
 He looks the God, he breathes of Jove F] Thus Moschus : 
 
 Kpi|^t Ssoy xoM rpi-^t Ss^tas* koci yinro ravpos. 
 
 The God forgot himself, his heaven, for love, 
 And a bull's form belied th' almighty Jove. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODEI OF ANACREON. 57 
 
 ODE LV. 
 
 While wc invoke the wreathed spring, 
 Resplendent rose ! to thee we 'II sing ; 
 Resplendent rose, the flower of flowers, 
 Whose breath perfumes Olympus' bowers; 
 
 Whose 
 
 This ode b a brilliant panegyric on the rote. M Alt anti- 
 quity («ar* Barnes) baa produced nothing more beaut. 
 
 From the idea of peculiar excellence, which the ancient* 
 attached to tbu flower, arose a pretty proverbial expression, 
 used by Aristophanes, according to Suidas, fs&s ft,'uf*mm t 
 " You have spoken rosea," a phrase somewhat similar to the 
 " dire dea fleurettcs" of the French. In the same idol of ex- 
 cellence originated, I doubt not, a very curious eypstatjrioa of 
 the word fslss, for which the inquisitive reader may eonsult 
 Gaulminu* upon the epithaWmium of oar pott, where it it 
 introduced in the romance of Theodoras. Mamas, In on* 
 of his elegies, calls his mistress his rose : 
 
 Jam te igitur ronus teneo, fbrmosnkt, jam tc 
 
 (Quid ucpida* ?) teneo ; jam, rota, te teneo. Ekg. t. 
 
 ■ 4 Nut.
 
 58 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Whose virgin blush, of chasten'd dye, 
 Enchants so much our mortal eye. 
 When pleasure's bloomy season glows, 
 The Graces love to twine the rose ; 
 
 Now I again embrace thee, dearest, 
 (Tell me, wanton, why thou fearest ?) 
 Again my longing arms infold thee, 
 Again, my rose, again I hold thee. 
 
 This, like most of the terms of endearment in the modern 
 Latin poets, is taken from Plautus ; they were vulgar and col- 
 loquial in his time, and they are among the elegancies of th« 
 modern Latinists. 
 
 Passeratius alludes to the ode before us, in the beginning of 
 his poem on the Rose : 
 
 Carmine digna rosa est ; vellem caneretur ut illam 
 Teius arguta cecinit testudine vates. 
 
 Resplendent rose ! to thee -we '11 sing ;] I have passed over the 
 line (ruy iT&tfu av%tt /AEXirny ; it is corrupt in this original read- 
 ing, and has been very little improved by the annotators. I 
 should suppose it to be an interpolation, if it were not for a 
 line which occurs afterwards : fipt 5n f van AE-yoi/Atv. 
 
 The
 
 
 ODES OP AJtACREOI*. 59 
 
 ■ 
 
 The rose is warm Dione's bliss. 
 And flushes like Dione's kiss ' 
 Oft has the poet's magic tongue 
 The rose's fair luxuriance sung ; 
 
 And 
 
 71* ntt 11 wit m Dimu'i Hits, fife] Bcllcao, in a note upon 
 an old French poet, quoting the original here •» f iliw» 
 vm U f f t a, translates it, " commc lea delices ct etignardiari dc 
 Venea." 
 
 Oft kulht putt mmpt 1 
 
 Tk* ntf'M fur kmmrimm mmg j Vc] The following it a 
 fragment of the Lesbian poetess. It is cited in the iomanoa 
 of Achilles Tatius, who appear* to have resolved the numbers 
 into prose. Ei rm$ MtWi* *fcx«* i Z« M wwtuM* fl— i»*w> r* 
 {•Is* m rm i fx u rCatnfew. <**« » f i a**>4f , Cvmv 07 *«;***■, 
 «Sw rt j M r »*W, *M*Mrm ir*^«, «*JO*« if ^iin . Cfwrat 
 •»•», AftsJir w s»««ft»*i, isuaWi CvJOatr ■•*»?, ••••rwr^i •trtO*** 
 rfvpi. ra wtraJkM v« Z i e sy «r»XJ. 
 
 If Jove would give the leaf)- bowers 
 A queen for all their world of flowers. 
 The rose would be the choice uf Jove, 
 And blu»h, the queen of every grove* 
 Sweetest child of weeping 
 Gcea* the vest of earth
 
 60 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 And long the Muses, heavenly maids, 
 Have rear'd it in their tuneful shades. 
 When, at the early glance of morn, 
 It sleeps upon the glittering thorn, 
 'T is sweet to dare the tangled fence, 
 To cull the timid flowret thence, 
 And wipe with tender hand away 
 The tear that on its blushes lay ! 
 'Tis sweet to hold the infant stems, 
 Yet dropping with Aurora's gems, 
 And fresh inhale the spicy sighs 
 That from the weeping buds arise. 
 
 Eye of flowrets, glow of lawns, 
 Bud of beauty, nurs'd by dawns : 
 Soft the soul of love it breathes, 
 Cypiia's brow with magic wreaths, 
 And, to the Zephyr's warm caresses, 
 Diffuses all its verdant tresses, 
 Till, glowing with the wanton's play, 
 It blushes a diviner ray !
 
 ODE* OF ANACASON. 
 
 When revel reigns, when mirth is high, 
 And Bacchus beams in every eye, 
 Our rosy fillets scent exhale, 
 And fill with balm the fainting gale I 
 Oh ! there is nought in nature bright, 
 Where roses do not shed their light ! 
 When morning paints the orient skies, 
 Her fingers bum with roseate dies ; 
 The nymphs display the rose's charms, 
 It mantles o'er their graceful arms j 
 Through Cytherea's form it glows, 
 And mingles with the living snows. 
 
 II ktn tm m tmi ftumti tit -timt iltri , 
 
 lltr Jtmftrt burn witi tmmH Jin ; &(.] In the original hcie, 
 he enumerate* the many rpiihcti of beauty, bmoild from 
 rotes, which were u«cd by the poets, cms*) m sif— . We se* 
 that pocu were dignified in Greece with the title of «gc»: e»er» 
 the careless Atwcrroa, who Irsed but fur love and voluptuous- 
 nets, was called by Plato the wise Antcreun run Iuk t*> 
 picntu kjuuotLim. 
 
 The
 
 62 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 The rose distils a healing balm, 
 The beating pulse of pain to calm ; 
 Preserves the cold inurned clay. 
 And mocks the vestige of decay. 
 
 And 
 
 Preserves the cold inured clay, &c.] He here alludes to the 
 use of the rose in embalming ; and, perhaps (as Barnes 
 thinks), to the rosy nnguent with which Venus anointed the 
 corpse of Hector. Homer's Iliad 4>. It may likewise regard 
 the ancient practice of putting garlands of roses on the dead, 
 as in Statius, Theb. lib. x. j8z. 
 
 — — — hi sertis, hi veris honore soluto 
 
 Accumulant artus patriaque in sede reponunt 
 
 Corpus odoratum. 
 Where " veris honor," though it mean every kind of flowers, 
 may seem more particularly to refer to the rose, which our 
 poet in another ode calls \mpos /kiXdamc. We read, in the 
 Hieroglyphics of Pierius, lib. Iv. that some of the ancients 
 used to order in their wills, that roses should be annually 
 scattered on their tombs, and he has adduced some sepulchral 
 inscriptions to this purpose. 
 
 And mods the vestige of decay .] When he says that this 
 flower prevails over time itself, he still alludes to its efficacy 
 in embalment (tenera poneret ossa rosa. Propert. lib. i. eleg. 
 17), or perhaps to the subsequent idea of its fragrance surviv- 
 ing
 
 ODES OP AN ACT 6j 
 
 And when at length, in pale decline, 
 
 Its florid beauties fade and pine, 
 
 Sweet as in youth, its balmy breath 
 
 Diffuses odour e'en in death ! 
 
 Oh ! whence could such a plant have sprung? 
 
 Attend — for thus the talc is sung. 
 
 ing it» beauty ; for he can «car:ely mean to praise for duration 
 the " nimiutn breve* florei" of the rose. Philo»tmtu« com. 
 pare* this Bower with love, and says, that they both defy the 
 rraJornrr of time ; x/**** ** ■" ^f**» ■*• C*** •*'•*• Unfor- 
 tunately the similitude lies not in their duratiun, but thcur 
 
 Swttt st iajomtk, in ktlmy htttth 
 
 Dtffmtn tJmr ttn in it*tk !\ That Caspar BarUru*, in his 
 Situs Nuptiarum : 
 
 ArobrcHium late rota tunc quoque spargit «»*"—— , 
 Cum fluit, aut multo languida sole jacet. 
 
 Nor then the ro*c its odour loses. 
 
 When all ita flushing beauties diej 
 Kor leas ambrotial balm dittos**, 
 
 When wither d by the »oUr eye! 
 
 When,
 
 64 ODES OF ANACREON. \ 
 
 When, humid, from the silvery stream, 
 
 Effusing beauty.' s warmest beam, 
 
 Venus appear'd, in flushing hues, 
 
 Mellow'd by ocean's briny dews ; 
 
 When, in the starry courts above, 
 
 The pregnant brain of mighty Jove 
 
 Disclos'd the nymph of azure glance, 
 
 The nymph who shakes the martial lance ! 
 
 Then, then, in strange eventful hour, 
 
 The earth produc'd an infant flower, 
 
 Which sprung, with blushing tinctures drest, 
 
 And wanton'd o'er its parent breast. 
 
 The gods beheld this brilliant birth, 
 
 And hail'd the Rose, the boon of earth ! 
 
 With nectar drops, a ruby tide, 
 
 The sweetly orient buds they dyed, 
 
 And 
 
 With nectar drops, a ruby tide, 
 
 The i-weetly orient buds they dyed, Sfc] The author of the 
 
 ** Pervigilium
 
 ODES Or ANACREOK. 
 
 iJ bade them bloom, the flowers divine 
 Of him who sheds the teeming vine ; 
 And bade them on the spangled thorn 
 Expand their bosoms to the morn. 
 
 • Pervigilium Veneris" (a poem attributed to Catullus, the 
 style of which appear* to me to have all the laboured luxuriance 
 of a much later pciiod; ascribes the tincture of the rose k» 
 the blood from the wound of Adonis— 
 
 — rosae 
 Passe aprino dc cruore— 
 according to the emendation of Liparos. In the following 
 epigram this hue is differently accounted for : 
 
 lib quidem studios* suum dcfcndcre Adorn m, 
 
 Gradivus stricto quern petit ense fcrox, 
 Am tit duri* vestigia caaca roaetia, 
 Albaque divino picu cruore roan eat. 
 
 While the enamoar'd queen of joy 
 Flies to protect her lovely boy, 
 
 On whom the jealous war-god toshes ; 
 She treads upon a thorned rote, 
 And while the wound with crimson flows, 
 
 The snowy Aowret fecit her blood, and Mashes ! 
 
 OOI
 
 66 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LVI. 
 
 He, who instructs the youthful crew 
 To bathe them in the brimmer's dew, 
 And taste, uncloy'd by rich excesses, 
 All the bliss that wine possesses ! 
 He, who inspires the youth to glance 
 In winged circlets through the dance \ 
 Bacchus, the god again is here, 
 And leads along the blushing year ; 
 
 " Compare with this elegant ode the verses of Uz, lib, i. 
 die Weinlese." Pegen. 
 
 This appears to be one of the hymns which were sung at the 
 anniversary festival of the vintage ; one of the swiXnvioi i(/.iot 
 as our poet himself terms them in the fifty-ninth ode. We 
 cannot help feeling a peculiar veneration for these relics of the 
 religion of antiquity. Horace may be supposed to have written 
 the nineteenth ode of his second book, and the twenty-fifth of 
 the third, for some bacchanalian celebration of this kind. 
 
 The
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 67 
 
 The blushing year with rapture teems, 
 Ready to shed those cordial streams, 
 Which, sparkling in the cup of mirth, 
 Illuminate the sons of earth ! 
 And when the ripe and vermil wine, 
 Sweet infant of the pregnant vine, 
 Which now in mellow clusters swells, 
 Oh ! when it bursts its rosy cells, 
 The heavenly stream shall mantling flow, 
 To balsam every mortal woe I 
 
 Which, ipcrkTrwi $u th* cuf •/ mirth, 
 
 lllmmimmtt tit mm •/ **rth!\ In the original tm t% * w 
 M/u{a». Madame Dacicr thinks that the poet her* bad the 
 nepenthe of Homer in hit mind. Odvwey, lib. iv. Tbi« ne- 
 penth* wr. a something of eiquMire charm, rahased by Hcka 
 into the wine of her guests, which had the power of dhpcfltaf 
 every anxiety. A French writer, with very efcgaatt gaJaaatry, 
 conjecturn that thU apell, which made the bowl to beguiling, 
 waa the charm of Helen's conversation. Sec Dc Meat, qooacd 
 by Bayle, art. Helene. 
 
 VOL. II. F No-
 
 68 
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 No youth shall then be wan or weak, 
 For dimpling health shall light the cheek; 
 No heart shall then desponding sigh, 
 For wine shall bid despondence fly ! 
 Thus — till another autumn's glow 
 Shall bid another vintage flow !
 
 ODES OP ANACRKON. 69 
 
 ODE LVII. 
 
 And whose immortal hand could shed 
 Upon this disk the ocean's bed ? 
 And, in a frenzied flight of soul 
 Sublime as heaven's eternal polo, 
 
 |tM 
 
 This ode is a very animated description of a picture of Venut 
 on a discus, which r e pr esen t ed the goddess in her fine cruet* 
 gence from the waves. About two centuries after our poet 
 wrote, the pencil of the artist Apellcs embellished thai subject, 
 in his famous painting of the Venus Anadyomenc, the modal 
 of which, as Pliny informs us, was the beautiful Campaspr, 
 given to him by Alexander ; though, according to Stubs 
 Comes, lib. vii. cap. 16, it was Phiyne who sat to Apetlca for 
 the face and breast of this Venus. 
 
 There are a few blemishes in the reading of the ode before 
 
 us, which have influenced Faber, rlcyne, Branca, *c. to 
 
 denounce the whole poem as spurious. Non ego paocts of- 
 
 fcndar maculia. I think it is beautiful enough 10 be authcntfci 
 
 v r a Jam
 
 7© ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Imagine thus, in semblance warm, 
 The Queen of Love's voluptuous form 
 Floating along the silvery sea 
 In beauty's naked majesty ! 
 Oh ! he has given the captur'd sight 
 A witching banquet of delight ; 
 And all those sacred scenes of love, 
 Where only hallow'd eyes may rove, 
 
 Lie 
 
 And ivftose immortal hand eould shtd 
 
 Upon this disk the ocean's bed?] The abruptness of apx rit 
 roptvai Bjoyroy, is finely expressive of sudden admiration, and 
 is one of those beauties, which we cannot but admire in their 
 source, though, by frequent imitation, they are now become 
 languid and unimpressive. 
 
 And all those sacred scenes of love, 
 
 Where only hallow' d eyes may rove, &c] The picture here 
 has all the delicate character of the semi-reducta Venus, and 
 is the sweetest emblem of what the poetry of passion ought to 
 be ; glowing but through a veil, and stealing upon the heart 
 from concealment. Few of the ancients have attained this 
 
 modesty
 
 
 ODES OF ANACRFON. 
 
 Lie faintly glowing, half-conceal'd, 
 Within the lucid billows vcil'd. 
 Light as the leaf, that summer's breeze 
 Has wafted o'er the glassy seas, 
 She floats upon the ocean's breast, 
 Which undulates in sleepy rest, 
 And stealing on, she gently pillows 
 Her bosom on the amorous billows. 
 Her bosom, like the humid rote, 
 Her neck, like dewy-sparkling snows, 
 
 Illume 
 
 modesty of description, which U like the golden cloud thai 
 hung MM Jupiter and Juno, impervious to every bam but 
 thai of fancy. 
 
 JjU few, £i* 'A* Jm*M raw, tfe.) " PsJW («7> M 
 anonymous annotaior) to a whimncaJ epithet lot the botom." 
 Neither Catullus nor Gray have been of hie opinion. Th* 
 former has the ex p r e ssi on , 
 
 En bic in roaeis laiet papillis. 
 And the Unci, 
 
 Let where the mty.bosom'd boars, Ac 
 
 r } Ciottna,
 
 72 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Illume the liquid path she traces, 
 And burn within the stream's embraces ! 
 In languid luxury soft she glides, 
 Encircled by the azure tides, 
 Like some fair lily, faint with weeping, 
 Upon a bed of violets sleeping ! 
 Beneath their queen's inspiring glance, 
 The dolphins o'er the green sea dance, 
 Bearing in triumph young Desire, 
 Aud baby Loye with smiles of fire ! 
 
 While, 
 
 Crottus, a modern Latinist, might indeed be censured for 
 too vague an use of the epithet " rosy," when he applies it to 
 the eyes : " e roseis oculis." 
 
 y oung Desire, fife] In the original 'I/vupos, 
 who was the same deity with Jocus among the Romans. Au- 
 Telius Augurellus has a poem beginning 
 
 Invitat olim Bacchus ad coenam suos 
 Comon, Jocum, Cupidinem. 
 
 Which Tarnell has closely imitated : 
 
 Gay
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 73 
 
 While, sparkling on the silver waves, 
 The tenants of the briny caves 
 Around the pomp in eddies play, 
 And gleam along the watery way. 
 
 Gay Bacehm, liking Estcouft'l wine, 
 
 A nob'c meal bespoke w ; 
 And for the guetts thai were to dine, 
 
 Broufbt Comut, Love, and Jocot, Ac 
 
 * 4
 
 74 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LVIIT. 
 
 When gold, as fleet as zephyr's pinion, 
 Escapes like any faithless minion, 
 And flies me (as he flies me ever,), 
 Do I pursue him ? never, never ! 
 
 No, 
 
 I have followed Barnes's arrangement of this ode ; it deviates 
 somewhat from the Vatican MS, but it appeared to me the 
 more natural order. 
 
 When gold, asjleet lis zephyr's pinictt, 
 
 Escapes hie any faithless minion, fife] In the original 
 'O fyairirnf o XP ,,< ">'- There is a kind of pun in these words, 
 as Madame Dacier has already remarked ; for Chrysos, which 
 signifies gold, was also a frequent name for a slave. In one of 
 Lucian's dialogues there is, I think, a similar play upon the 
 word, where the followers of Chrysippus are called golden 
 fishes. The puns of the ancients are, in general, even more 
 vapid than out own ; some of the best are those recorded of 
 Diogenes. 
 
 And flies me fas he -flits me everj, fi^c] An S', an f*.i fivfei. 
 
 This
 
 ODES OF ANACRKON. 75 
 
 No, let the false deserter en, 
 For who would court his direst foe? 
 But, when I feel my lighten 'd mind 
 No more by ties of gold coufin'd, 
 I loosen all my clinging cares, 
 And cast them to the vagrant airs. 
 Then, then 1 feel the Muse's spell, 
 And wake to life the dulcet shell; 
 
 This grace of iteration has already been taken notice of. 
 Though sometime* merely a playful beauty, it is peculiarly 
 -expressive of impattioncd sentiment, and we may easily believe 
 that it was one of the many sources of that energetic sensibility 
 which breathed through the style of Sappho. See Gyrald. Vet. 
 Poet. Dial. 9. It will not be said that this i> a mechanical or- 
 nament by any one who can feel its charm in those lines of 
 Catullus, where be complains of the infidelity of hit llisstww, 
 Lesbia. 
 
 Ceeti, Lesbia nostra, Lesbia ilia, 
 
 lib Lesbia, quam Catullus uium, 
 
 Plu* quam se atquc sues amavit omnes. 
 
 Nunc, Ac. 
 omnia diifctrt ! bat the test docs not bear citation. 
 
 The
 
 76 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 The dulcet shell to beauty sings, 
 And love dissolves along the strings ! 
 Thus, when my heart is sweetly taught 
 How little gold deserves a thought, 
 The winged slave returns once more, 
 And with him wafts delicious store 
 Of racy wine, whose balmy art 
 In slumber seals the anxious heart ! 
 Again he tries my soul to sever 
 
 From love and song, perhaps for ever ! 
 
 Away, deceiver ! why pursuing 
 
 Ceaseless thus my heart's undoing ? 
 
 Sweet is the song of amorous fire ; 
 
 Sweet are the sighs that thrill the lyre; 
 
 Oh ! sweeter far than all the gold 
 
 The waftage of thy wings can hold. 
 
 I well remember all thy wiles ; 
 
 They wither'd Cupid's flowery smiles,
 
 ODSS OP ANACREON. 77 
 
 And o'er hit harp such garbage shed, 
 I thought its angel breath was Bed ! 
 They tainted all his bowl of blisses, 
 His bland desires and hallow'd kisses. 
 Oh ! fly to haunts of sordid men, 
 But rove not near the bard again ! 
 Thy glitter in the Muse's shade, 
 Scares from her boner the tuneful maid ; 
 
 Thty UtmteJ mil kit html •/ Uiurs, 
 
 I hi iUmJ Mm *W ij/.'rw'./ Hutt.] Original : 
 
 n«Svr uroXXa mtfr%>. 
 
 Horace ha* " Desidcrlquc tempcrare poculam," not figu- 
 ratively, however, like Anaereon, but importing the lore- 
 phdtm of the witebe*. By " cup* of kiuea" our poet may 
 allude to a favourite gallantry among the ancient*, of drinking 
 ** hen the lip* of their mUtrcaaea had touched the brim : 
 
 •• Or leave a ki « within iht cup, 
 And I'll not a*k for wine |" 
 
 a* in Ben Joo*on*« translation from Philo*tratm; and Lodan 
 conceit upon the tame idea, " 'Im ati air** aaa m 
 fOa*," " ibat you may at once both drink and ki*»." 
 
 And
 
 78 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 And not for worlds would 1 forego 
 That moment of poetic glow, 
 When my full soul, in Fancy's stream, 
 Pours o'er the lyre its swelling theme. 
 Away, away i to worldlings hence, 
 Who feel not this diviner sense, 
 And with thy gay, fallacious blaze, 
 Dazzle their unrefined gaze. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES Of ANACRROK. 79 
 
 ODE LIX. 
 
 Sablkd by the solar beam, 
 Now ihe fiery clusters teem, 
 In osier baskets, borne along 
 By all the festal vintage throng 
 Of rosy youths and virgins fair, 
 Ripe as the melting fruits they bear. 
 Now, now they press the pregnant grapes, 
 And now the captive stream escapes, 
 
 The tit'e E*,x»,»« if**i, which Barnes hat ghren 10 this 
 ode, is by no incut* appropriate. We have already had one 
 of those hymns (ode 56), bat this it a description of the vin- 
 tage; and the title u •**•», which it bean in the Vatican MS. 
 i« more correct than any that ha*e been «ifgr»icd. 
 
 Degen, in the true »piHi of literary scepticism, doubts that 
 this ode t» genuine, without amg ning any mason tor aucfa a 
 a ua pi c ioo. *' Non arno tr, Sabidi ncc possum dtccrc ^uarc ~ 
 bnt this is Cat from aathmrtnry criticism. 
 
 In
 
 So ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 In fervid tide of nectar gushing, 
 And for its bondage proudly blushing I 
 While, round the vat's impurpled brim, 
 The choral song, the vintage hymn 
 Of rosy youths and virgins fair, 
 Steals on the cloy'd and panting air. 
 Mark, how they drink, with all their eyes, 
 The orient tide that sparkling flies ; 
 The infant balm of all their fears, 
 The infant Bacchus, born in tears ! 
 When he, whose verging years decline 
 As deep into the vale as mine, 
 When he inhales the vintage-spring, 
 His heart is fire, his foot's a wing 3 
 And as he flies, his hoary hair 
 Plays truant with the wanton air ! 
 While the warm youth, whose wishing soul 
 Has kindled o'er the inspiring bowl, 
 
 Impassion'd
 
 ODES OP ANACRF.OW. 8l 
 
 Impassion'd seeks the shadowy grove, 
 \\ here, in the tempting guise of love, 
 Reclining sleeps some witching maid, 
 Whose sunny charms, but half display'd, 
 Blush through the bower, that, closely twin'd, 
 Excludes the kisses of the wind ! 
 The virgin wakes, the glowing boy 
 Allures her to the embrace of joy j 
 Swears that the herbage heaven had spread. 
 Was sacred as the nuptial bed j 
 
 9 msn tktt tit ktrh*i* httrvtn km J tfrtjj, 
 
 tVmt tmtrti *s tk* mm f>tijl ktJ\ &e.] The original here ha* 
 been variously interpreted. Some, in their seal for oar author's 
 purity, have supposed, that the youth only persuades her to a 
 premature marriage. Other* understand from the words 
 mfimrn ft*m vtsseftsu, that he seduces her to a violation of 
 the nuptial vow. The turn which I have given it U somewhat 
 like the sentiment of Hcloisa, " amorem conjogio, libertatera 
 vinculo pnrfcrre." (See her original Letters.) The Italian 
 translation! have almost all wantoned upon this description j 
 but that of Maichctti is indeed •• nimium lubneus asp.ci." 
 
 That
 
 82 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 That laws should never bind desire, 
 And love was nature's holiest fire ! 
 The virgin weeps, the virgin sighs; 
 He kiss'd her lips, he kiss'd her eyes ; 
 The sigh was balm, the tear was dew* 
 They only rais'd his flame anew. 
 And oh ! he stole the sweetest flower 
 That ever bloom'd in any bower ! 
 
 Such is the madness wine imparts,. 
 Whene'er it steals on youthful hearts. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODKS OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LX. 
 
 Awake to life, my dulcet shell, 
 To Phoebus all thy sighs shall swell ; 
 And though no glorious prize be thine, 
 .No Pythian wreath around thee twine, 
 Yet ever)- hour is glory's hour 
 To him who gathers wisdom's Bower 1 
 
 Thi« hymn to Apollo U supposed not to have been written 
 by Anacreon, and it certainly it rather a sublimer flight than 
 the Teian wing it accustomed to soar. But we ought not to 
 judge from this diversity of st»le, in a poet of whom time ha* 
 |— ami! such partial relict. If we knew Horace bat m • 
 •aitmt, should we caaily believe there could dwelt men anima- 
 tion in hit lyre I Studs* mys that our port wrote Ii/smm, and 
 this perhaps is one of them. We can perceive in what an 
 altered and imperfect state bis work* are at present, when w» 
 find a •cboha* upon Horace citing an ode bom the third book 
 
 Of AOaKYfOB* 
 
 VOL. U. O Tlwu
 
 84 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 1 
 
 Then wake thee from thy magic slumbers, 
 Breathe to the soft and Phrygian numbers, 
 Which, as my trembling lips repeat, 
 Thy chords shall echo back as sweet. 
 The cygnet thus, with fading notes, 
 As down Cayster's tide he floats, 
 Plays with his snowy plumage fair 
 Upon the wanton murmuring air, 
 Which amorously lingers round, 
 And sighs responsive Bound for sound ! 
 Muse of the Lyre ! illume my dream, 
 Thy Phoebus is my fancy's theme ; 
 And hallow'd is the harp I bear, 
 And hallow'd is the wreath I wear, 
 Hallow'd by him, the god of lays, 
 Who modulates the choral maze ! 
 I sing the love which Daphne twin'd 
 Around the godhead's yielding mind ', 
 
 , I sing
 
 ODES OF AXACREON. 85 
 
 I sing the blushing Daphne's flight 
 From this ethereal youth of light ; 
 And how the tender, timid maid 
 Flew panting to the kindly shade, 
 Resign'd a form, too tempting fair, 
 And grew a verdant laurel there ; 
 Whose leaves, with sympathetic thrill, 
 In terror seem'd to tremble still I 
 
 Ami krm tht traJrr, timiJ msid 
 
 Ftrw f**Ang /• fit kimJly ikaJt, Cfe.] Original 1 
 
 T« fut imffpyt mtrrp*, 
 
 ♦vfllK I* «AMl4-< ft*fp*0. 
 
 1 find the word nrr^i here haa a double force, at it abe 
 t'cmfiei that •« omnium parent em, quam aanctu* Numa, Ac. 
 »tc." rSee Martial ) In order to confirm tht* import of the 
 word here, thoae who are curious in new read toga, may place 
 the »top after cwim, t!. 
 
 O 2 Tlie
 
 86 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 The God pursu'd, with wing'd desire j 
 And when his hopes were all on fire, 
 And when he thought to hear the sigh , 
 With which enamour'd virgins die, 
 He only heard the pensive air 
 Whispering amid her leafy hair ! 
 But, oh my soul! no more — no more! 
 Enthusiast, whither do I soar? 
 This sweetly-mad'ning dream of soul 
 Has hurried me beyond the goal. 
 Why should I sing the mighty darts 
 Which fly to wound celestial hearts, 
 When sure the lay, with sweeter tone, 
 Can tell the darts that wound my own ? 
 Still be Anacreon, still inspire 
 The descant of the Teian lyre : 
 Still let the. nectar'd numbers float, 
 Distilling love in every note ! 
 
 And
 
 ODES OF ANACREON. 87 
 
 And when the youth, whose burning soul 
 Has felt the Paphian star's control, 
 
 When 
 
 Still it Aitaemn, still inspire 
 
 Tkt Jt scant oftkt Tdan Ijrt :] The original is To» Ar««f isrr* 
 jaytc* 1 have translated it under the supposition that the 
 hymn is by Anacreon ; though I fear, from this very line, 
 that his claim to it can scarcity be supported. 
 
 To» Airaaftorr* **■!**,», " Imitate Anacreon." Such is the 
 lesson given us by the lyrist ; and if, in poetry, a simp'e ele- 
 gance of sentiment, enriched by the most p'a>ful felicities of 
 fancy, be a charm which invites or deserves imitation, where 
 shall we find such a guide as Anacreon ? In molality too, 
 with some little reserve, I think we might not blu«h to follow 
 in his footsteps. For if his song be the language of his heart, 
 though luxurious and relaxed, he was artless and benevolent ; 
 and who wou.d not forgive a few irregularities, when atoned 
 for by virtues so rare and so endearing ? When we think of the 
 sentiment in those lines : 
 
 Away ! I hare the slanderous dart, 
 Which steals to wound th" unwary heart, 
 
 how many are there in the world, to whom we would wish 
 
 to say, To* Aracfttrra AUM* • 
 
 Here ends the la«t of the odes in the Vatican MS. whose 
 
 authority connims the genuine antiquity of them all, though a 
 
 03 fel
 
 88 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 When he the liquid lays shall hear, 
 His heart will flutter to his ear, 
 And drinking there of song divine, 
 Banquet on intellectual wine ! 
 
 few have stolen among the number, which we may hesitate 
 in attributing to Anacreon. In the little essay prefixed to this 
 translation, I observed that Barnes has quoted this manuscript 
 incorrectly, relying upon an imperfect copy of it, which Isaac 
 Vossius had taken ; I shall just mention two or three instances 
 of this inaccuracy, the first which occur to me. In the ode of 
 the Dove, on the words Tlnpiti awyxctXv^Uy he says, " Va- 
 tican MS. owxta.fyv, etiam Prisciano invito," though the MS, 
 reads o-yyxaXu-^w, with avaxtaaa fnterlined. Degen too, on the 
 same line, is somewhat in error. In the twenty-second ode of 
 this series, line thirteenth, the MS. has rttin with at inter- 
 lined, and Barnes imputes to it the reading of tevSu. In the 
 fifty-seventh, line twelfth, he professes to have preserved the 
 reading of the MS. AxaXn^syn 3' nt avrn, while the latter has 
 «XaXr) / M.Evos 5* tir aura. Almost all the other annotators have 
 transplanted these errors from Barnes. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 89 
 
 ODE LXI. 
 
 Golden hues of youth are fled ; 
 Hoary locks deform my head. 
 Bloomy graces, dalliance gay, 
 All the flowers of life decay. 
 
 Withering 
 
 The intrusion of this melancholy ode, among the careless 
 levities of our poet, has always reminded me of the skeletons, 
 which the Egyptians used to hang up in their banquet -rooms, 
 to inculcate a thought of mortality even amidst the dissipations 
 of mirth. If it were not for the beauty of its numbers, the 
 Tcian Muse should disown (his ode. Quid habet illius, i'.Iiu* 
 qux spirabat amores ? 
 
 To Stobmts we aie indebted for it. 
 
 BUtm j grjcti, d*tti*mct g»j % 
 
 All tktjhmtn •/ lift Jttmj.] Horace often, with feeling and 
 elegance, deplores the fugaciry of human enjoyment*. See 
 book ii. ode ai. ; and thus in the second eptstle, book U. 
 
 Singula de nobis anni prxdantur eunte*. 
 Lripucrc jocos, venerem, convivia, ludum. 
 
 «. 4 The
 
 90 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Withering age begins to trace 
 Sad memorials o'er my face j 
 Time has shed its sweetest bloom, 
 All the future must be gloom ! 
 This awakes my hourly sighing; 
 Dreary is the thought of dying ! 
 Pluto's is a dark abode, 
 Sad the journey, sad the road : 
 
 The wing of every passing day 
 
 Withers some blooming joy away ; 
 
 And wafts from our enamour'd arms 
 
 The banquet's mirth, the virgin's charms. 
 Dreary is the thought of dying ! isfc] Regnier, a libertine 
 French poet, has written some sonnets on the approach of 
 death, full of gloomy and trembling repentance. Chaulieu, 
 however, supports more consistently the spirit of the Epicurean 
 philosopher. See his poern> addressed to the Marquis La 
 Farre. 
 
 Plus j'approche du terme et moins je le redoute, &c. 
 
 I shall leave it to the moralist to make his reflections here : 
 it is impossible to be very anacreontic on such a subject. 
 
 And,
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 0,t 
 
 And, the gloomy travel o'er, 
 Ah ! we can return no more ! 
 
 AhJ, tkt gloomy travtl o'tr, 
 
 Ak ! w earn rttmrm mo mort /] Scaliger, upon Catullus's well- 
 known lines, " Qui nunc it per iter, Ac." remarks, that 
 Acheron, with the same idea, is called mnfolt by Theocritus, 
 and hmmiffiM bj Nicandcr. 
 
 OOI
 
 92 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXII. 
 
 Fill me, boy, as deep a draught, 
 As e'er was fill'd, as e'er was quafF'd j 
 But let the water amply flow, 
 To cool the grape's intemperate glow ; 
 
 Let 
 
 This ode consists of two fragments, which are to be found 
 in Athenaeus, book x. and which Barnes, from the similarity 
 of their tendency, has combined into one. I think this a very 
 justifiable liberty, and have adopted it in some other fragments 
 of our poet. 
 
 Degen refers us here to verses of Uz, lib. iv. der Trinker. 
 
 But let the "water amply jlo-w, 
 
 To cool the grape's intemperate gh-w ; &c.'} It was Amphictyon 
 who first taught the Greeks to mix water with their wine ; in 
 commemoration of which circumstance they erected altars to 
 Bacchus and the nymphs. On this mythological allegory the 
 . following epigram is founded : 
 .'■ ■ • 4. Ardentem
 
 ODES OF ANACREOW. 93 
 
 Let not the fiery god be single, 
 
 But with the nymphs in union mingle* 
 
 For though the bowl 's the grave of sadness, 
 
 Oh ! be it ne'er the birth of madness ! 
 
 No, banish from our board to-night 
 
 The revelries of rude delight ! 
 
 To Scythians leave these wild excesses. 
 
 Ours be the joy that sooths and blesses ! 
 
 Ardcntcm ex utero Scmcles lavere Lyarura 
 
 Naiades, exuncto fulminis ignc sacti ; 
 Cum nympbis igitur tractabilis, ai sine nvmphis 
 
 Candcnu rutsus fulraioc corripirur. 
 
 Pktius Valciianus. 
 
 Which is, non vctbum vexbo, 
 While heavenly fire comum'd his Theban dame, 
 A Naiad caught young Bacchus from ihe flame, 
 
 And dipp'd bim burning in her pure* lymph j 
 Snll, sttll he loves the sea-maid's crystal urn, 
 And when bis native fires infuriate burn. 
 
 He bathes him in the fountain of the nymph. 
 
 And
 
 94 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 And while the temperate bowl we wreathe, 
 Our choral hymns shall sweetly breathe, 
 Beguiling every hour along 
 With harmony of soul and song ! 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES Or ANACREOX. 95 
 
 ODE LXIII. 
 
 To Love, the soft and blooming child, 
 I touch the harp in descant wild ; 
 To Love, the babe of Cyprian bowers, 
 The boy, who breathes and blushes flowers I 
 To Love, for heaven and earth adore him, 
 And gods and mortals bow before him ! 
 
 " Tbb fragment it preterml in Clement Alexandrinut, Strom. 
 lib. \i. and in Arteniu*, Collect. Gr*c." Ban**. 
 
 It appears to bate been the opening of a hymn in prat* of 
 Lose 
 
 ot)l
 
 96 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXIV. 
 
 Haste thee, nymph, whose winged spear 
 Wounds the fleeting mountain-deer ! 
 Dian, Jove's immortal child, 
 Huntress of the savage wild ! 
 
 This hymn to Diana is extant in Hephsestion. There is au 
 anecdote of our poet, which has led some to doubt whether he 
 ever wrote any odes of this kind. It is related by the Scholiast 
 upon Pindar (Isthmionic. od. ii. v. 1. as cited by Baines). 
 Anacreon being asked, why he addressed all his hymns to wo- 
 men, and none to the deities? answered, M Because women are 
 my deities." 
 
 I have assumed the same liberty in reporting this anecdote, 
 which I have done in translating some of the odes ; and it were 
 to be wished that these little infidelities were always considered 
 pardonable in the interpretation of the ancients ; thus, when 
 nature is forgotten in the original, in the translation " tamen 
 usque recurret." 
 
 Goddess
 
 ODES OP AKACRKON. 97 
 
 Goddess with the sun-bright hair ! 
 Listen to a people's prayer. 
 Turn, to Lethe's river turn, 
 There thy vanquish'd people mourn ! 
 Come to Lethe's wavy shore, 
 There thy people's peace restore. 
 Thine their hearts, their altars thine ; 
 Dian ! must they — must they pine ? 
 
 Turn, H Lftke'i rntr tmrm, 
 
 Thm tfy ■9**<jwiik'J peflt mmrmf] Lethe, a river of Ionia, 
 according to Strabo, falling into the Meander : near to it waa 
 aituated the town Magnesia, in rarour of whoae inhabitants oar 
 poet it (apposed to have addressed this supplication to Diana. 
 Jt was wrjttcn (at Madame Dacicr conjecture*) on the occ*> 
 •ion of tome battle, in which the Magncsiant had bars de- 
 
 ODI
 
 98 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXV. 
 
 Like some wanton filly sporting, 
 
 Maid of Thrace ! thou fly'st my courting. 
 
 Wanton filly ! tell me why 
 
 Thou trip'st away, with scornful eye, 
 
 And seem'st to think my doting heart 
 
 Is novice in the bridling art ? 
 
 This ode, which is addressed to some Thracian girl, exists 
 in Heradides, and has been imitated very frequently by Ho- 
 race, as all the annotators have remarked. Madame Dacier 
 rejects the allegory, which runs so obviously throughout it, 
 and supposes it to have been addressed to a young mare be- 
 longing to Polycrates : there is more modesty than ingenuity 
 in the lady's conjecture. 
 
 Pierius, in the fourth book of his Hieroglyphics, cites this 
 ode, and informs us, that a horse was the hieroglyphical em- 
 blem of pride. 
 
 Believe
 
 ODES OF AMACRBON. 99 
 
 Believe me, girl, it if not to ; 
 Thou 'It find this skilful hand can throw 
 The reins upon that tender form, 
 However wild, however warm ! 
 Thou 'It own that I can tame thy force, 
 And turn and wind thee in the course. 
 Though wasting now thy careless hours, 
 Thou sport amid the herbs and flowers. 
 Thou soon shah feel the rein's control, 
 And tremble at the wish'd-for goal ! 
 
 VOL. II. II ode
 
 • 
 
 IOO ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXVI. 
 
 I o thee, the Queen of nymphs divine, 
 Fairest of all that fairest shine ; 
 To thee, thou blushing young desire, 
 Who rul'st the world with darts of fire ! 
 
 This ode is introduced in the Romance of Theodorus Prodro- 
 mus, and is that kind of epithalamium which was sung like a 
 scolium at the nuptial banquet. 
 
 Among the many works of the impassioned Sappho, of 
 which time and ignorant superstition have deprived us, the 
 loss of her epithalamiums is not one of the least that we de- 
 plore. A subject so interesting to an amorous fancy, was 
 waimly felt, and must have been warmly described, by such a 
 soul and such an imagination. The following lines are cited as 
 a relic of one of her epithalamiums : 
 
 OxCte tfa/tGpt. aot /ah Sn <ya/*os at apao, 
 ExtitiXij-', «X ,( * ^* ««/>6s»ov «» ttpao. 
 See Scaliger, in his Poetics, on the Epithalamium. 
 
 And
 
 Or ANACREON. I 01 
 
 And oh ! thou nuptial power, to thee 
 Who bear'st of life the guardian key ; 
 Breathing my soul in fragrant praise, 
 And weaving wild my votive lays, 
 For thee, O Queen ! I wake the lyre, 
 For thee, thou blushing young desire ! 
 And oh ! for thee, thou nuptial povu r, 
 Come, and illume this genial hour. 
 Look on thy bride, luxuriant boy ! 
 And while thy lambent glance of joy 
 Plays over all her blushing charms, 
 Delay not, snatch her to thine arms, 
 Before the lovely, trembling prey, 
 Like a young birdling, wing away ! 
 Oh ! Stratoclcs, impasaion'd youth ! 
 Dear to the Queen of amorous truth, 
 And dear to her, whose yielding zone 
 Will soon resign her all thine own ; 
 
 h a Turs
 
 102 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 Turn to Myrilla, turn thine eye, 
 Breathe to Myrilla, breathe thy sigh 1 
 To those bewitching beauties turn, 
 For thee they mantle, flush and burn ! 
 Not more the rose, the queen of flowers, 
 Outblushes all the glow of bowers, 
 Than she unrivall'd bloom discloses, 
 The sweetest rose where all are roses' ! 
 Oh ! may the sun, benignant, shed 
 His blandest influence o'er thy bed ; 
 And foster there an infant tree, 
 To blush like her, and bloom like thee ! 
 
 And foster there an infant tree. 
 
 To blush like her, and bloom like thee f] Original Kwnxpirros Se 
 %n<pvxoi <nv tvi xww. Passeratius, upon the words * cum 
 castum amisit florem," in the nuptial song of Catullus, after 
 explaining " flos" in somewhat a similar sense to that which 
 Gaulminus attributes to foSov, says, '.' Hortum quoque vocant 
 in quo flos ille carpitur, et Graecis xnwoy t?t to upriGaior 
 
 fVHHlKtt*." 
 
 4 • May
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. IO3 
 
 May I remark, that the author of the Greek version of this 
 charming ode of Catullus, has neglected a most striking and 
 Anacreontic beauty in those renes " Ut flos in scptis, Ac." 
 which is the repetition of the line, " Multi ilium pueri, multat 
 opuvcie pucllat," with the slight alteration of nulli and nulla. 
 Catullus himself, howeve-, has been equally injudicious in his 
 version of the famous ode of Sappho ; he has translated yt*M«f 
 ]/*«;•«*, but takes no notice of kh Aspmi. Horace has canjht 
 the spirit of it more faithfully 1 
 
 Dulcc ridentem Lalagen amabo 
 Du'.cc loqucntem. 
 
 H 3 ODE
 
 IOA ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXVII. 
 
 Gentle youth ! whose looks assume 
 Such a soft and girlish bloom, 
 Why, repulsive, why refuse 
 The friendship which my heart pursues ? 
 Thou little know'st the fond control 
 With which thy virtue reins my soul ! 
 Then smile not on my locks of grey ; 
 Believe me, oft with converse gay, 
 
 I have formed this poem of three or four different fragments* 
 which is a liberty that perhaps maybe justified by the example 
 of Barnes, who has thus compiled the fifty-seventh of his 
 edition, and the little ode beginning <ptf vSwf, <pif ««oy, ««««, 
 which he has subjoined to the epigrams. 
 
 The fragments combined in this ode, are the sixty-seventh, 
 ninety-sixth, ninety-seventh, and hundredth of Barnes's edition, 
 to which 1 refer the reader for the names of the authors by 
 whom they are preserved. 
 
 I've
 
 ODBS Or ANACREOK. IO5 
 
 I \e chain'd the ears of tender age, 
 And boys have lov'd the prattling sage ! 
 For mine is many a soothing pleasure, 
 And mine is many a soothing measure ; 
 And much I hate the beamless mind, 
 Whose earthly vision, unrcfin'd, 
 Nature has never form'd to see 
 The beauties of simplicity ! 
 Simplicity, the flower of heaven, 
 To souls elect, by nature given ! 
 
 Ami kuys Live Irr'J lit prattling tm^tf] Monveuf Chaulicu 
 ha* given a very amiable ides of an old man's intercourse with 
 youth: 
 
 Que chercM par le* jeun« tens, 
 Pour leuri errcurt plein d*indulgcncc, 
 Je tolere leur imprudence 
 
 En faveur dc lcur> agrfmen*. 
 
 H 4 OD1
 
 I06 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXVIII. 
 
 Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn 
 The stream of Amalthea's horn ! 
 Nor should I ask to call the throne 
 Of the Tartessian prince my own ; 
 To totter through his train of years, 
 The victim of declining fears. 
 One little hour of joy to me 
 Is worth a dull eternity ! 
 
 This fragment is preserved in the third book of Strabo. 
 
 Of the Tartessian prince my otvnQ He here alludes to Argan- 
 thonius, who lived, according to Lucian, an hundred and 
 fifty years ; and reigned, according to Herodotus, eighty. See 
 Barnes. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OF ANACRHOW. IOJ 
 
 ODE LXIX. 
 
 Now Neptune's sullen month appears, 
 The angry night-cloud swells with tears j 
 And savage storms, infuriate driven, 
 Fly howling in the face of heaven ! 
 Now, now, my friends, the gathering gloom 
 With roseate rays of wine illume : 
 And while our wreaths of parsley spread 
 Their fadeless foliage round our head, 
 We '11 hymn th' almighty power of wine, 
 And shed libations on his shrine ! 
 
 This is composed of two fragments ; the •ereotieth and 
 cighty-orat u» Bams. They tie both found in EusttUuua. 
 
 ODB
 
 I08 . ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXX. 
 
 They wove the lotus band to deck, 
 And fan with pensile wreath their neck 5 
 And every guest, to shade his head, 
 Three little breathing cbaplets spread 3 
 
 Three fragments form this little ode, all of which are pre- 
 served in Athenacus. They are the eighty-second, seventy- 
 fifth, and eighty-third, in Barnes. 
 
 And every guest, to shade his head, 
 
 Three little breathing chaplets spread ;] Longepierre, to give 
 an idea of the luxurious estimation in which garlands were 
 held by the ancients, relates an anecdote of a courtezan, who, 
 in order to gratify three lovers, without leaving cause for jea- 
 lousy with any of them, gave a kiss to one, let the other drink 
 after her, and put a garland on the brow of the third ; so that 
 each was satisfied with his favour, and flattered himself with 
 the preference. 
 
 This circumstance is extremely like the subject of one of the 
 tensons of Savari de Mauleon, a Troubadour. See L'Histoire 
 Litteraire des Troubadours. The recital is a curious picture of 
 the puerile gallantries of chivalry. 
 
 And
 
 odbs op AHAcmaoir. 109 
 
 And one was of Egyptian leaf, 
 The rest were roses, fair and brief ! 
 While, from a golden vase profound, 
 To ail on flowery beds around, 
 A goblct-nymph, of heavenly shape, 
 Pour'd the rich weepings of the grape ! 
 
 ODE
 
 110 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXXI. 
 
 A broken cake, with honey sweet, 
 Is all my spare and simple treat j 
 And while a generous bowl I crown 
 To float my little banquet down, 
 I take the soft, the amorous lyre, 
 And sing of love's delicious fire ! 
 In mirthful measures, warm and free, 
 I sing, dear maid, and sing for thee ! 
 
 This poem is compiled by Barnes, from Athenaus, He- 
 phaestion, and Arsenius. See Barnes, Soth. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACRSOIf. lit 
 
 ODE LXXII. 
 
 A\ ith twenty chords my lyre is hung, 
 And while I wake them all for thee, 
 
 Thou, O virgin, wild and young, 
 Disport'st in airy levity. 
 
 The nursling fawn, that in some shade 
 Its antler'd mother leaves behind, 
 
 Is not more wantonly afraid, 
 More timid of the rustling wind ! 
 
 Thb I have formed from the eighty-fourth and eighty-fifth 
 of BaineV* edition. The two fragment* are found in Athe- 
 ruru*. 
 
 74f mtrtliag fawn, ikit im nmt ikaJt 
 
 lit tmiUr'i mtktr Umvtt itkimJ, &c] In the original : 
 
 'Oi i* iln mtfmtrm 
 
 A*«Amc4m« rr» j*vrpt. 
 
 " Homed*
 
 112 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ■■ "" ' - ■ 
 
 " Horned" here, undoubtedly, seems a strange epithet ; 
 Madame Dacier however observes, that Sophocles, Calhma- 
 chus, &c. have all applied it in the very same manner, and 
 she seems to agree in the conjecture of the Scholiast upon 
 Pindar, that perhaps horns are not always peculiar to the 
 males. I think we may with more ease conclude it to be a 
 license of the poet, " jussit habere puellam cornua." 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACRBOIf. II J 
 
 ODE LXXIII. 
 
 Fare thee well, perfidious maid 1 
 My soul, too long on earth delay'd, 
 Delay'd, perfidious girl ! by thee, 
 Is now on wing for liberty. 
 I fly to seek a kindlier sphere, 
 Since thou hast ceas'd to love me here ! 
 
 Thi« fragment is preserved by the Scholiast upon Aristo. 
 plianes, and n the eighty-seventh in Barnes. 
 
 ODE
 
 114 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXXIV. 
 
 I bloom'd awhile, an happy flower, 
 Till Love app roach' d one fatal hour, 
 And made my tender branches feel 
 The wounds of his avenging steel. 
 Then, then I fell, like some poor willow 
 That tosses on the wintry billow ! 
 
 This is to be found in Hephaestion, and is the eighty-ninth of 
 Barnes's edition. 
 
 I must here apologize for omitting a very considerable frag- 
 ment imputed to our poet, HavOn 5' EvpwxvXn /u.iXu, &c. which 
 is preserved in the twelfth book of Athenaeus, and is the ninety- 
 first in Barnes. If it was really Anacreon who wrote it, nil 
 fuit unquam sic impar sibi. It is in a style of gross satire, and 
 is full of expressions which never could be gracefully translated. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. I I 5 
 
 ODE LXXV. 
 
 Monarch Love ! resistless boy, 
 With whom the rosy Queen of Joy, 
 And nymphs, that glance ethereal blue, 
 Disporting tread the mountain-dew j 
 Propitious, oh ! receive my sighs, 
 Which, burning with entreaty, rise, 
 That thou wilt whisper to the breast 
 Of her I love thy soft behest j 
 And counsel her to learn from thee 
 The lesson thou hast taught to me. 
 Ah ! if my heart no flattery tell, 
 Thou 'It own 1 've learn'd that lesson well 1 
 
 This fragment is preserved by Dion Cbrysostom. Oral. ii. dfc 
 Regno, See Barnes, 9$. 
 
 VOL. II. I ODF
 
 Il6 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXXVI. 
 
 Spirit of Love, whose tresses shine 
 Along the breeze, in golden twine ; 
 Come, within a fragrant cloud, 
 Blushing with light, thy votary shroud ; 
 
 And, 
 
 This fragment, which is extant in Athenasus (Barnes, 101), 
 is supposed, on the authority of Chamaeleon, to have been ad- 
 dressed to Sappho. We have also a stanza attributed to her, 
 which some romancers have supposed to be her answer to 
 Anacreon. " Mais par roalheur (as Bayle says), Sappho vint 
 au monde environ cent ou six vingt ans avant Anacreon." 
 Nouvelles de la Rep. des Lett. torn. ii. de Novembre 1684. The 
 following is her fragment, the compliment of which is very 
 finely imagined ; she supposes that the Muse has dictated the 
 verses of Anacreon : 
 
 Ksivov, « xpveoQpovi Mbt' iviaittt 
 
 'Y(«.yov, ik T*if xaMifvvouxos taQXas 
 
 TnVof wf&t ov «nS« rtpmius 
 TlpiaGvf ttyctvos. 
 
 Oh
 
 ii7 
 
 And, on those wings that sparkling play, 
 Waft, oh ! waft mc hence away ! 
 Lore ! my soul is full of thee, 
 Alive to all thy luxury. 
 But she, the nymph for whom I glow, 
 The pretty Lesbian, mocks my woe ; 
 Smiles at the hoar and jilvcr'd hues 
 Which Time upon my forehead strews. 
 Alas ! I fear she keeps her charms, 
 In store for younger, happier arms ! 
 
 Oh Mum ! who »ilt'»t on golden throne. 
 Full many a hymn of dulcet tone 
 
 The Tcian «ge it taught hy thec ; 
 But, Goddm, from thy throne of gold, 
 The tweetrM hymn thoo '»t ever told. 
 
 He lirrty Icatn'd and tanj for me. 

 
 1 18 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXXVII. 
 
 Hither, gentle Muse of mine, 
 Come and teach thy votary old, 
 
 Many a golden hymn divine, 
 
 For the nymph with vest of gold. 
 
 Pretty nymph, of tender age, 
 
 Fair thy silky locks unfold ; 
 Listen to a hoary sage, 
 
 Sweetest maid with vest of gold ! 
 
 This is formed of the 124th and 119th fragments in Barnes, 
 both of which are to be found in Scaliger's Poetics. 
 
 De Pauw thinks that those detached lines and couplets, 
 which Scaliger has adduced as examples in his Poetics, are by 
 no means authentic, but of his own fabrication. 
 
 ODE
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. 110 
 
 ODE LXXVIII. 
 
 Would that I were a tuneful lyre, 
 
 Of burnish 'd ivory fairj 
 Which, in the Dionysian choir, 
 
 Some blooming boy should bear! 
 
 Would that I were a golden vase, 
 And then some nymph should hold 
 
 My spotless frame, with blushing grace, 
 Herself as pure as gold ! 
 
 This n generally inserted among- the remain) of Alarut. 
 Some, however, have attributed it to Anacrcon. See our 
 poet's twenty second ode, and the notes. 
 
 I 3 ODS
 
 120 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 ODE LXXIX. 
 
 When Cupid sees my beard of snow. 
 
 Which blanching Time has taught to flow, 
 
 Upon his wing of golden light 
 
 He passes with an eaglet's flight, 
 
 And flitting on he seems to say, 
 
 <f Fare thee well, thou 'st had thy day 1" 
 
 See Barnes, 173d. This fragment, to which I have taken 
 the liberty of adding a turn not to be found in the original, is 
 cited by Lucian in his little essay on the Gallic Hercules.
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. Ill 
 
 Cupid, whose lamp has lent the ray, 
 Which lightens our meandering way} 
 Cupid, within my bosom stealing, 
 Excites a strange and mingled feeling, 
 Which pleases, though severely teasing, 
 And teases, though divinely pleasing ! 
 
 Barnes, 1 15th. TbU, if I remember right, is in Scaliger's 
 Poetics. Car] hi* omitted it in hi< collection of fragments. 
 
 ' 4 •
 
 122 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 LET me resign a wretched breath, 
 
 Since now remains to me 
 No other balm than kindly death 
 
 To sooth my misery ! 
 
 This fragment is extant in Arsenius and Hephaestion. See 
 Barnes (69th), who has arranged the metre of it very elegantly. 
 
 1 KNOW
 
 ODES OP ANACREOW. I 23 
 
 I KNOW thou lov'st a brimming measure* 
 And art a kindly, cordial host ; 
 
 But let me 611 and drink at pleasure, 
 Thus I enjoy the goblet most. 
 
 Barnes, 7 id. This fragment, which is quoted by Atheturat, 
 w hi excellent testoo (or the votaries of Jupiter Hospitalis. 
 
 1 PIAI
 
 124 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 I FEAR that love disturbs my rest, 
 Yet feel not love's impassion'd care ; 
 
 I think there 's madness in my breast^ 
 Yet cannot find that madness there ! 
 
 This fragment is in Hephaestion. See Barnes, 95th. 
 Catullus expresses something of this contrariety of feelings i 
 
 Odi et amo ; quare id faciam fortasse requiris ; 
 Nescio: sed fieri sentio, et excrucior. Cairn. 53. 
 
 I love thee and hate thee, but if I can tell 
 
 The cause of my love and my hate, may I die ! 
 
 I can feel it, alas ! I can feel it too well, 
 That 1 love thee and hate thee, but cannot tell why. 
 
 FROM
 
 ODES Of ANACftHOM. H5 
 
 FROM dread Leucadia's frowning steep, 
 1 'II plunge into the whitening deep : 
 And there I 'II float, to waves resign'd, 
 For Love intoxicates my mind i 
 
 This also is in Hephatstion, and perhaps is a fragment of 
 soase poem, in which Anacicon had 1 ITMIWOWH il (he fate 
 •f Sappho. It t» the 1 »jd of Barnes. 
 
 MIX
 
 126 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 MIX me, child, a cup divine, 
 Crystal water, ruby wine : 
 "Weave the frontlet, richly flushing. 
 O'er my wintry temples blushing. 
 Mix the brimmer — Love and I 
 Shall no more the gauntlet try. 
 Here — upon this holy bowl, 
 I surrender all my soul ! 
 
 This fragment is collected by Barnes from Demetrius Phala- 
 reus, and Eustathius, and is subjoined in his edition to the 
 epigrams attributed to our poet. And here is the last of those 
 little scattered flowers, which I thought I might enture with 
 any grace to transplant. I wish it could be said of the gailand 
 which they form, To S' «§' Ay«xptoyT<w. 
 
 AMONG
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. I 27 
 
 Amoko the Epigrams of the Anthologia, there are 
 tome panegyrics on Anacreon, which I had translated, 
 and originally intended as a kind of Coronis to the 
 work ; but I found, upon consideration, that they 
 wanted variety ; a frequent recurrence of the same 
 thought, within the limits of an epitaph, to which they 
 are confined, would render a collection of them rather 
 uninteresting. I shall take the liberty, however, of 
 subjoining a few, that I may not appear to have totally 
 neglected those elegant tributes to the reputation of 
 Anacreon. The four epigrams which I give are im- 
 puted to Antipater Sidonius. They are rendered, 
 perhaps, with too much freedom; but designing a 
 translation of all that are on the subject, I imagined it 
 was n ec es s a ry to enliven their uniformity by 
 times indulging in the liberties of paraphrase. 
 
 A.;.T»tf*
 
 128 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 AvTiicxTfx SidWa, e*s AvaxpsovTa. 
 ©AAAOI TETpaxopu/xboj, Avaxpsoy, cc.fji.Qi <ji xktotos 
 
 a/of» TE \H[JL0i';UV iBTOp^UpECDV OTETOiXa* 
 
 CTyjyat d 1 apyiyoEvro; avaQXiboivTo yaXaKToj, 
 
 Eiwdsj d' affo y^f vidu p^EOiro jxeOu, 
 -e^pa x.e to* o-7rod\*i te sc»i o$-£a TEp^iv apr,Ta*, 
 
 h $■ tij ^OtjUEvotf ^ptiAffTETat iv(pfoavva t 
 -w to $iXov j-5p|a?» <£tX;, /3apC*Tov, w otjv ao»d» 
 
 wavTa otaTrXwcaj y.ea cuv spam /3iov. 
 
 Around the tomb, oh bard divine ! 
 
 Where soft thy hallow'd brow reposes, 
 Long may the deathless ivy twine, 
 
 And Summer pour her waste of roses ! 
 
 And many a fount shall there distil, 
 And many a rill refresh the flowers ; 
 
 But wine shall gush in every rill, 
 And every fount be milky showers. 
 
 Thus,
 
 ODES OF ANACRBOjr. 120. 
 
 Thus, shade of him, whom Nature taught 
 To tunc his lyre and soul to pleasure, 
 
 Who gave to love his warmest thought, 
 Who gave to love his fondest measure ! 
 
 Thus, after death, if spirits feel, 
 
 Thou may' st, from odours round thee 
 streaming, 
 A pulse of past enjoyment steal, 
 
 And live again in blissful dreaming ! 
 
 Antipatcr Sidoniu*, the author of thin epigram, lived, ac- 
 cording to Vossios, de Poctt* Gratcis in the second year of the 
 169th O l ympi a d. He appear*, fiom what Cicero and Quin- 
 tilian have aid of him, to have been a kind of improvvisatore. 
 See Institut. Oral. lib. x. cap. 7. Tncie it nothing more 
 known respecting this poet, eicept tome particular* about hi* 
 illness and death, which are mentioned as cunou* by Pliny and 
 other* { and there remain of hi* works but a lew epigram* in 
 the AnihotarU, among whuh are these I have selected, upon 
 Anacrcon. Those remains have been sometime* imputed to 
 5
 
 I3O ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 another poet * of the same name, of whom Vossius gives us the 
 following account : " Antipater Thessalonicensis vixit tem- 
 pore Augusti Casaris, ut qui saltantem viderit Pyladem, sicut 
 constat ex quodam ejus epigrammate AySoXo<yi«i lib. iv. tit. 
 its o^i)r/>'S«<. At eum ac Bathyllum primos fuisse pantomi- 
 mos acsub Augusto claruisse, satis notum ex Dione, &c. &c." 
 
 The reader, who thinks it worth observing, may find a 
 strange oversight in Hoffman's quotation of this article from 
 Vossius, Lexic. Univers. By the omission of a sentence he has 
 made Vossius assert that the poet Antipater was one of the first 
 pantomime dancers in Rome. 
 
 Barnes, upon the epigram before us, mentions a version of 
 it by Brodaeus, which is not to be found in that commentator ; 
 but he more than once confounds Brodaeus with another anno- 
 tator on the Anthologia, Vincentius Obsopoeus, who has given 
 a translation of the epigram. 
 
 * Pkraque tamen Thessalonicensi tribuenda videntur. 
 
 Brunck, Lectiones'et Emendat. 
 
 T«
 
 ODFS OP ANACREON. I3I 
 
 TTMBOX Ai«x;uo?)of. Ta&s- ndoii xvxrac 
 
 'Evil*, x* W » ' ^" {afoVi* /*«i»*. 
 Axpv Xuftonli fMX*£iku «/*$« BnSvXAat 
 
 fivy atof aJa m c KvraJk Sippolif*. 
 
 Herb sleeps Anacreon, in this ivied shade; 
 Here mute in death the Teian swan is laid. 
 Cold, cold the heart, which liv'd but tu respire 
 All the voluptuous frenzy of desire ! 
 
 And 
 
 ih* Tttmm nm » UiJ.) Thea Horace of INtvUr . 
 
 Mulu Dircarum levat aura eyenum. 
 
 A twan «ras the herogljrphka! emblem of a pott. Anacreon 
 law been called the sarin of Tcoa by another of hia eulogists. 
 
 vsu. 11. x F,
 
 132 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 And yet, oh Bard ! thou art not mute in death, 
 Still, still we catch thy lyre's delicious breath ; 
 And still thy songs of soft Bathylla bloom, 
 Green as the ivy round the mouldering tomb ! 
 
 Nor 
 
 Ey rots /AiXixpoit 'l/Aipom <rv/lpo$ot 
 Auof/©' Afotxp-ovl*, TriVoy xuxvoy, 
 E<rQi\\oit vyp* vut'lap®* /tceXriSoyn- 
 
 Ewyivm, Av9oXo«y. 
 
 God of the grape ! thou hast betray 'd 
 
 In wine's bewildering dream, 
 The fairest swan that ever play'd 
 Along the Muse's stream ! 
 The Teian, nurs'd with all those honied boys, 
 The young Desires, light Loves, and rose-lip'd Joys ! 
 
 £7*//, still tve catch thy lyre's delicious breath ;] Thus Si- 
 monides, speaking of our poet : 
 
 MoXwrif V s Xt)9i) /j.i\ilifvii®- «XX' tit xuro 
 BctfS i7oy «3t 3«yuiy fuyajfy ut a'iori. 
 
 Zi^iiyiSs, AyOoXoy. 
 
 Nor yet are all his numbers mute, 
 
 Though dark within the tomb he lies ; 
 
 But living still, his amorous lute 
 
 With sleepless animation sighs ! 
 
 This
 
 ODES OF ANACRJZOM. 1 33 
 
 Nor yet has death obscur'd thy fire of love, 
 Still, still it lights thee thro' the Elysian grove j 
 And dreams are thine, that bless th' elect alone, 
 And Venus calls thee even in death her own ! 
 
 This i« (he famous S tm o o t dts , whom Plate styled " divine ;" 
 though Lc Kcvac, in his Peetcs Greet, lupposei that the epi- 
 grams under his name arc all taltely imputed. The most coo- 
 ai dsj mbk of his remains it a mtirical poem upon women, pre- 
 served by Saoba ra s , t*i+- yunw . 
 
 Wc may judge from the lines I have just quoted, and the 
 import of the epigram before us, that the works of Anacreoo 
 were perfect in the rimes of Siroonides and Ann pater. Obso- 
 pcru<, the commentator here, appears to eault in their de- 
 struction, and telling us they were burned by the bishops and 
 patriarchs he adds, " nee sane id necqoicquam feccrunt," 
 attributiaf te this outrage aa effect which it could never pro- 
 duce. 
 
 K 1 T«
 
 134 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 'Ta at/]y, aq rov avlov. 
 
 "HEINE, ratyov tssa^au Xfloy AvaxpEtoylos o^xsibwy, 
 
 Et Tt to* ex, jS/feAwv nX0£v Ep.«v offiEXoj, 
 STTetsrov Ep»i oTToStn, aitikaov yayoj, o<ppa xsy otv» 
 
 Orsa y»)8wE rayxa yoltc /^^} 
 flf o Atoyucry jUEjUEXn^Eyoj isao-t xttjuoj, 
 ilj o (fiXaxpiily awlpo^oj ap/AOvtnj, 
 'M*)5e xa]a$S»jLtEyos Bax^s £*%a T^loy vKoktw 
 Toy yEy£»i joiEpoTTwy %wpoy o<p«XcyAEVoy. 
 
 Oh stranger ! if Anacreon's shell 
 Has ever taught thy heart to swell 
 With passion's throb or pleasure's sigh, 
 In pity turn, as wandering nigh, 
 
 And 
 
 The spirit of Anacreon utters these. verses from the tomb, 
 somewhat " mutatus ab illo," at least in simplicity of ex- 
 pression. 
 
 if
 
 ODES OP ANACREON. X35 
 
 And drop thy goblet's richest tear 
 In exquisite libation here ! 
 
 So 
 
 *f Amst r tm'i tk*U 
 flat tvtr Hmgkt thy htmrt h nutty &V] We may gum from 
 the woi d» is &C*m> i^ui, that A rue r eon wu not met eljr a writer 
 of bilcts-doux, at »orne Ficnch critic* have called him. 
 Amongst thee Mr. Le Kcvrc, with all hi* professed admiration, 
 ha* giten our poet a character by 00 means of an elevated east : 
 
 Aossi e'est poor cela que la postc 
 L'a toujour* justeraent d'age en age chaste 
 Commc on franc goguc-nard, ami de gom-frcrie, 
 Ami de billets-doux ct de badincric. 
 
 See the verses prefixed to his Hoete* Grec*. This is onitKs- 
 the Unguage of Theocritus, to whom Anacreon is indebtcJ tor 
 the following simple culogmm 1 
 
 En Ara«/**»'aV mtlftmtlm. 
 0— 1 ts» mripmlu rjm, m ftw, 
 
 rwmlm, mmt *•■)»'» •*•» « •»••» *»sW 
 ANiytnltf ua*»' if it •» T»» 
 
 r.t mfiV ti ti *W« W **I a J *WS«a*. 
 
 mfttt u * t* gfli *•»• **—'" •Ms, 
 •pit tri/t««a* •*•» T*» asl f fji 
 
 a 3 I >:i
 
 I36 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 So shall my sleeping ashes thrill 
 With visions of enjoyment still. 
 I cannot even in death resign 
 The festal joys that once were mine, 
 
 Upon the Statue of Anacreon. 
 
 Stranger ! who near this statue chance to roam, 
 Let it awhile your studious eyes engage ; 
 
 And you may say, returning to your home, 
 " I've seen the image of the Teian sage, 
 Best of the bards who deck the Muse's page." 
 
 Then, if you add, u That striplings lov'd him well," 
 
 Ypu tell them all he was, and aptly tell. 
 
 The simplicity of this inscription has always delighted me ; I 
 have given it, I believe, as literally as a verse translation will 
 allow. 
 
 And drop thy goblet 1 1 richest tear, &c.~] Thus Simonides, in 
 another of his epitaphs on our poet: 
 
 K*i fi.11 an rvyfoi yolifn S/>o<r©*, w o ytpai©* 
 Aapolipor /j.otXxxuv tirtiiv ex fo/Aalwi. 
 
 Let vines, in clustering beauty wreath'd, 
 
 Drop all their treasures on his head, 
 Whose lips a dew of sweetness breath'd, 
 
 Richer than vine hath ever shed ! 
 
 When
 
 ODBS OP ANACREOlf. 1 37 
 
 When Harmony purtu'd my ways, 
 And Bacchus wanton'd to my lays. 
 Oh ! if delight could charm no more, 
 If all the goblet's bliss were o'er, 
 When fate had once our doom decreed, 
 Then dying would be death indeed ! 
 Nor could I think, unbleat by wine, 
 Divinity itself divine ! 
 
 And Bmtekmt ytumttm'J f mf Ltrt, &c .] The original neic it 
 corrupted , the line it • £<•*»»•, Ice. is unintelligible. 
 
 Brunck'i emendation improves the sen*, but I doubt if it 
 can be commended for elegance. He reads the line thus I 
 
 •i i Ami— 1« XiX«#/4tT#» avsli »•/**». 
 
 See Brenck, Analecu Vctcr. Poet. Grstc. vol. ii. 
 
 K 4 T»
 
 I38 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 T« at/Is, uq rov ccvlov. 
 
 'EYAEIS 6v <pS4^Evo»cr»y, Avajcpsoy, lO-Qxa, mowcron; 
 lv$u d -n yXvxtfr) vuxltAaXo? xtQapa, 
 
 SUdSt X«» SjUEfdi?, TO IloSwv E«£, w <ro p.EXto"dft>y 
 
 (8ap£tT', avsicpyy ys>t]a§ Eyapjuoytoy. 
 ni'Ssy ya^ Epa/]oj e^uj o-xottoj* sj dE <te /ASvoy 
 To|a te xai (DtoXtaj e*%ev Ix,»)tooX»a.j. 
 
 At length thy golden hours have wing'd their 
 
 flight, 
 And drowsy death that eyelid steepeth \ 
 Thy harp, that whisper'd through each lingering 
 
 night, 
 
 Now mutely in oblivion sleepeth ! 
 
 She 
 
 Thy harp, that ivhisper'd through each lingering night, fefc.] In 
 another of these poems, " the nightly-speaking lyre" of the 
 bard is not allowed to be silent even after his death.
 
 ODES OF ANACRBON. 1 39 
 
 She too, for whom that harp profusely shed 
 
 The purest nectar of its numbers, 
 She, the young spring of thy desires, has fled, 
 * And with her blest Anacreon slumbers ! 
 
 Farewell 1 
 
 it I Pt\Mn(*i%- rt mi «<f«C«fiif £iX«ic«m&* 
 warrvx't- ■{••«• **> QiXo**iia X ,Xt "- 
 
 Zi^unioa, HI A»»«f»»»7«. 
 
 To beauty'* smile and wine's delight, 
 
 To joys be kxr'd on eaith so well, 
 Still shall his spirit, all the night, 
 
 Attune the wild, aerial shell ! 
 
 Sir, tkejromng tfr'tmg of lij Jrtitti, fife] The original, to IloVr 
 »•< , is beautiful. We regret that »uch praise should be lavished 
 so preposterous' y, and feel that the poet's roisttess Eurypyle 
 would have deserved it better. Her unx has been told us by 
 Mcleager, as already quoted, and in another epigram by Anti- 
 pater. 
 
 iff }< hf M^iMMn i? »/*m*#i» »*•» «u3su, 
 
 aS i n i x*9*{*t •*$#>• wf >i ««M<st, 
 •m •/•• E»f*sr*A*A> rflfBtiftAf* .... 
 
 * Brunck hav ■{»•» ; but «{twi, the common reading, better 
 suits a detached quotation. 
 
 Lone
 
 140 ODES OP ANACREON. 
 
 Farewell ! thou hadst a pulse for every dart 
 That love could scatter from his quiver ; 
 And every woman found in thee a heart, 
 
 Which thou, with all thy soul, didst give her! 
 
 i 
 
 Long may the nymph around thee play, 
 
 Eurypyle, thy soul's desire ! 
 Basking her beauties in the ray 
 
 That lights thine eyes' dissolving fire ! 
 
 Sing of her smile's bewitching power, 
 Her every grace that warms and blesses ; 
 
 Sing of her brow's luxuriant flower, 
 The beaming glory of her tresses. 
 
 The expression here, «»3©< x<y*iu, " the flower of the hair," 
 is borrowed from Anacreon himself, as appears by a fragment 
 of the poet preserved in Stobaeus : AtttKuqas S* awotX-ns aju.uy.ot 
 
 The purest nectar of its numbers, &fc] Thus, says Brunck, in 
 the prologue to the Satires of Persius : 
 
 Cantare credas Pegaseium nectar. 
 
 " Melos"
 
 ODES OP AWACREOy. I41 
 
 *' Mclos" is the usual reading in this line, and Citsubon has 
 • Wen ded it ; but " nectar," I think, is much mote spirited. 
 
 F*rcw*Ul tkm ksdtt •fmhtfif rsvry J*r1, &e.] tfm « ■ « « #. , 
 *• scopes era» natuta," not " (peculator ," as Barnes very fiusdy 
 interprets it. 
 
 Vinccntius Obsoporas, upon this passage, contrives to indulge 
 us with a little astrological wisdom, and talks in a style of 
 learned scandal about Venus, " male positm cum Mane in 
 domo Satumi." 
 
 j4»J rvt*j wtm *n fmmdhm the* * ktmrt, &c] This couplet is not 
 otherwise warranted by the original, than as it dilates the 
 thought which Antipater has figuratively expressed. 
 
 Cntias, of Athens, pays a tribute to the legitimate gallantry 
 of Anacreon, calling him, with elegant conciseness, ywsuss 
 
 MS {SSUJIS. 
 
 Ts* I* fn ^m ttmw amXmw vXif arf« «*r* «!•*, 
 •HU, Am^hmIi •, Tmm hi *EU«r owir, 
 £*****•"<• •<»$»«>**# ) W IHH W*S{SUV»/»«. 
 
 Teas gave to Greece her treasure, 
 
 Sage Anacreoo, safe in loving ; 
 Fondly weaving lays of pkasute 
 
 For the mad* who blush M approving ! 
 
 * Thus Scaliger, in bis dedica tory verses to Ronssrd: 
 suavtloquus, dulcu Anacreoo. 
 
 Owl
 
 14-2 ODES OF ANACREON. 
 
 Oh! in nightly banquets sporting, 
 
 Where 's the guest could ever fly him ? 
 
 Oh ! with love's seduction courting, 
 Where 's the nymph could e'er deny him ? 
 
 INDEX.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 od* rial 
 
 i I SAW the uniting bard of pleasure — 37 
 
 a Give me the harp of epic wag — — 41 
 
 3 Listen 10 the Mute's lyre — —43 
 
 4 Vulcan ! bear your glorious task — — 45 
 
 5 Crave me a cup with brilliant grace — 48 
 
 6 As late I sought tbe spangled towers — 51 
 ? The women tell roe e%ery day — —54 
 t I care not for the idle state — — 57 
 9 I pray thee, by the gods above — — 60 
 
 Tell me bow to punish thee — —61 
 
 1 Tell me, gentle youth, I pray tbee — - 64 
 a They tell how Atys, wild with lore — 67 
 
 3 1 will; I will; the conflict 'spwt — 69 
 
 4 Count roe, on the summer trees — — * 73 
 
 5 Tell me, why, my sweetest dove — — 80 
 € Thou, whose soft and rosy hues — — 8 5 
 
 7 And now, with all the pencil's truth — 93 
 
 8 Now the star of day is high — — tot 
 
 9 1 Icre recline you, gentle maid — — 105 
 
 o One day, the Motes twin'd the hands — tot 
 
 1
 
 14+ INDEX. 
 
 ODE PAGE 
 
 21 Observe when mother earth is dry — 112 
 
 22 The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm — 115 
 
 23 I often wish this languid lyre — — 120 
 
 24 To all that breathe the airs of heaven — 123 
 
 25 Once in each revolving year — — 127 
 
 26 Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms — 131 
 
 27 We read the flying courser's name — 133 
 
 28 As in the Lemnian caves of fire — » — 135 
 
 29 Yes — loving is a painful thrill — — 138 
 
 30 T was in an airy dream of night — — 143 
 si Arm'd with hyacinthine rod — — 145 
 
 32 Strew me a breathing bed of leaves — 149 
 
 33 T was noon of night, when round the pole — 152 
 
 34 Oh thou, of all creation blest — — 156 
 
 35 Cupid once, upon a bed — — 160 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 36 If hoarded gold possess'd a power — 3 
 
 37 T was night, and many a circling bowl — 6 
 
 38 Let us drain the nectar'd bowl — — 9 
 
 39 How I love the festive boy — — 13 
 
 40 I know that Heaven ordains me here — 15 
 
 41 When Spring begems the dewy scene — 18
 
 INDEX. 145 
 
 001 r*o> 
 
 4* Ye», be ibc g'orious revel mine — — ao 
 
 4j While oar rosy fillet* shed — — 1 j 
 
 44 Bud* of rows, \irg in flowers — r || 
 
 45 Within the goblet, rich and deep — 30 
 
 46 Sec the young, the rosy Spring — —32 
 
 47 T b true my fading year* decline — 36 
 
 48 When my thirsty soul 1 steep — —38 
 
 49 When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy — 40 
 
 50 When I di ink, I fed, I feel — — 4a 
 
 51 Fly not thus my brow 0/ snow — — 47 
 5a Away, away, you men of rules — —49 
 
 53 When 1 behold the festive train — — 5a 
 
 54 Methinks, the pictur'd bull we see —55 
 
 55 While we invoke the wreathed Sprint; — 59 
 
 56 He, who instructs the youthful crew — 66 
 
 57 And whose immortal band could shed — 69 
 
 58 When gold, as Beet at acphyt's pinion — 74 
 
 59 Babied by the solar beam — — 79 
 
 60 Awake to life, my dulcet shell — — 8j 
 
 61 Golden hues of youth arc Bed — — 89 
 (a Fill me, boy, a* deep a draught — ■• a] 
 83 To Love, the soft and blooming child — 95
 
 I46 INDEX. 
 
 ODE PAGI 
 
 64 Haste thee, nymph, whose winged spear — 96 
 
 65 Like a wanton filly sporting — — 98 
 
 66 To thee, the queen of nymphs divine — 100 
 
 67 Gentle youth! whose looks assume — 104 
 
 68 Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn — — 106 
 
 69 Now Neptune's sullen month appears — 107 
 
 70 They wove the lotus band to deck — 108 
 
 71 A broken cake, with honey sweet — — no 
 
 72 With twenty chords my lyie is hung — in 
 
 73 Fare thee well, perfidious maid — — 113 
 
 74 I bloom'd awhile, an happy flower — 114 
 
 75 Monarch Love ! resistless boy — — 115 
 
 76 Spirit of Love, whose tresses shine — 116 
 
 77 Hither, gentle Muse of mine — — 118 
 
 78 Would that I were a tuneful lyre — — 119 
 
 79 When Cupid sees my beard of snow — 120 
 Fragments, &c. — — — iai 
 
 THE END.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 4 WK MAR 11 1993 
 MAR26J9W 
 
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