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 1 
 
 ANACREON 
 
 THOMAS STANLEY'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 J. E. WEGUELIN 
 
 ELEVEN PHOTOGRAVURE ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 MERRILL AND BAKER 
 
 74 Fifth Avenue 
 1894
 
 Sanibrvsita |3rcss: 
 Presswork by John Wilson and Son.
 
 r r: 
 
 EimittB EUttton, on iS?anti=mat!e i^aper. 
 
 Five Hundred Copes. 
 
 ■f 
 
 576399 
 
 LIBRAR/
 
 ^■♦^'.^
 
 ANACREON. 
 
 The Lute. 
 
 I. 
 
 Of th' Atrides I would sing, 
 Or the wand'ring Theban king ; 
 But when I my lute did prove, 
 Nothing it would sound but love ; 
 I new strung it, and to play 
 Herc'les' labours did essay; 
 But my pains I fruitless found ; 
 Nothing it but love would sound : 
 Heroes then farewell, my lute 
 To all strains but love is mute. 
 
 • ^^*.
 
 Beauty. 
 
 II. 
 
 HoKNS to bulls wise Nature lends ; 
 Horses she with hoofs defends ; 
 Hares with nimble feet relieves ; 
 Dreadful teeth to lions gives ; 
 Fishes learns through streams to slide ; 
 Birds through yielding air to glide j 
 Men with courage she supplies ; 
 But to women these denies. 
 What then gives she ? Beauty, this 
 Both their arms and armour is : 
 She, that can this weapon use, 
 Fire and sword with ease subdues.
 
 3 
 
 Lovers Night Walk. 
 
 III. 
 
 Downward was the wheeling Bear 
 Driven by the Waggoner : 
 Men by powerful sleep opprest. 
 Gave their busy troubles rest ; 
 Love, in this still depth of night, 
 Lately at my house did light ; 
 Where, perceiving all fast lock'd. 
 At the door he boldly knock'd. 
 " Who's that," said I, " that does keep 
 Such a noise, and breaks my sleep ? " 
 " Ope," saith Love, "for pity hear; 
 'Tis a child, thou need'st not fear.
 
 Wet and weaiy, from his way 
 Led by this dark night astraj/' 
 With compassion this I heard ; 
 Light I struck, the door unbarr'dj 
 Where a little boy appears, 
 Who wings, bow, and quiver bears ; 
 Near the fire I made him stand, 
 With my own I chaf'd his hand, 
 And with kindly busy care 
 Wrung the chill drops from his hair. 
 When well warm'd he was, and dry, 
 " Now," saith he, " 'tis time to try 
 If my bow no hurt did get, 
 For methinks the string is wet." 
 With that, drawing it, a dart 
 He let fly that pierc'd my heart ; 
 Leaping tlien, and laughing said, 
 " Come, my friend, with me be glad ; 
 For my bow thou seest is sound, 
 Since thy heart hath got a wound."
 
 [Ow Himself. '\ 
 
 IV. 
 
 On this verdant lotus laid, 
 Underneath the myrtle's shade. 
 Let us drink our sorrows dead, 
 Whilst Love plays the Ganimed. 
 Life like to a wheel runs round, 
 And ere long, we underground 
 (Ta'en by death asunder) must 
 Moulder in forgotten dust. 
 Why then graves should we bedew ? 
 Why the ground with odours strew ? 
 Better whilst alive, prepare 
 Flowers and unguents for our hair. 
 Come, my fair one ! come away ; 
 All our cares behind us lay, 
 That these pleasures we may know. 
 Ere we come to those below.
 
 , {
 
 "■jj^^o^^*-! i
 
 xl" 
 
 Hoses, 
 
 Roses (Love's delight) let's join 
 
 To the red-cheek'd God of Wine ; 
 
 Roses crown us, while we laugh, 
 
 And the juice of Autumn quaff ! 
 
 Roses of all flowers the king, 
 
 Roses the fresh pride o' th' Spring, 
 
 Joy of every deity. 
 
 Love, when with the Graces he 
 
 For the ball himself disposes. 
 
 Crowns his golden hair with roses. 
 
 Circling then with these our brow. 
 
 We'll to Bacchus' temple go: 
 
 There some willing beauty lead, 
 And a youthful measure tread.
 
 /.".■■■
 
 Another. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now with roses we are crown 'd, 
 Let our mirth and cups go round. 
 Whilst a lass, whose hand a spear 
 Branch'd with ivy twines doth bear, 
 With her white feet beats the ground 
 To the lute's harmonious sound, 
 Play'd on by some boy, whose choice 
 Skill is heighten'd by his voice ; 
 Bright-hair'd Love, with his divine 
 Mother, and the God of Wine, 
 Will flock hither, glad to see 
 Old men of their company.
 
 8 
 
 The Chase, 
 
 VII. 
 
 With a whip of lilies, Love 
 Swiftly me before him drove; 
 Ou we cours'd it, through deep floods. 
 Hollow valleys, and rough woods, 
 Till a snake that lurking lay, 
 Chanc'd to sting me by the way: 
 Now my soul was nigh to death. 
 Ebbing, flowing with my breath ; 
 "When Love, fanning with his wings, 
 Back my fleeting spirit brings ; 
 " Learn," saith he, " another day 
 Love without constraint t' obey."
 
 /
 
 9 
 
 TliG Dream. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 As on purple carpets I 
 Charm'd. by wine in slumber lie, 
 With a troop of maids (resorted 
 There to play) methought I sported ; 
 Whose companions, lovely boys, 
 Interrupt me with rude noise. 
 Yet I offer made to kiss them. 
 But o' th' sudden wake and miss them. 
 Vext to see them thus forsake me, 
 I to sleep again betake me.
 
 10 
 
 The Dove. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Whither flies my pretty dove ? 
 Whither, nimble scout of Love ? 
 From whose wings perfumes distil, 
 And the air with sweetness fill. 
 " Is't to thee which way I'm bent? 
 By Anacreon I am sent 
 To Rhodantha, she who all 
 Hearts commands, Love's general. 
 I to Venus did belong. 
 But she sold me for a song 
 To her poet ; his I am, 
 And from him this letter came,
 
 11 
 
 For which he hath promis'd me 
 That ere long he'll set me free. 
 But though freedom I should gain, 
 I with liim would still remain ; 
 For what profit were the change, 
 Fields from tree to tree to range, 
 And on liips and haws to feed, 
 When I may at home pick bread 
 From his hand, and freely sup 
 Purest wine from his own cup ? 
 Hovering then with wings display'd, 
 I my master overshade ; 
 And if night invite to rest, 
 In his harp I make my nest. 
 
 Now thou dost my errand know, 
 Friend, without more questions go ; 
 For thy curiosity 
 Makes me to outchat a pie."
 
 12 
 
 Love in Wax. 
 
 X. 
 
 As Love's image, to be sold, 
 Wrought in wax I did behold, 
 To the man I went ; " What is, 
 Friend," said I, " the price of this ? " 
 " Give me what you please," he said; 
 " This belongs not to my trade. 
 And so dangerous a guest. 
 In my house I'm loth should rest." 
 " Give m' him for this piece," said I, * 
 " And the boy with me shall lie." 
 But, Love, see thou now melt me, 
 Or I'll do as much for thee.
 
 13 
 
 Tlie Comhat. • 
 XI. 
 
 Now will I a lover be ; 
 
 Love himself commandecl me. 
 
 Full at first of stubborn pride, 
 
 To submit my soul denied ; 
 
 He his quiver takes and bow, 
 
 Bids defiance, forth I go, 
 
 Arm'd with spear and shield, we meet 
 
 On he charges, I retreat : 
 
 Till perceiving in the fight 
 
 He had wasted every flight, 
 
 Into me, with fury hot, 
 
 Like a dart himself he shot,
 
 14 
 
 And ray cold heart melts ; my sliield 
 Useless, no defence could yield ; 
 For what boots an outward screen 
 When, alas, the fight's within !
 
 ; .
 
 15 
 
 The Swallow. 
 
 XII. . 
 
 CHATTEnmG swallow ! what shall we, 
 Shall we do to punish thee ? 
 Shall we clip thy wings, or cut 
 Tereus-like thy shrill tongue out? 
 Who Rhodantha diiv'st away 
 From my dreams by break of day.
 
 16 
 
 [ Wine and Love.^ 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Atis through deserted groves, 
 Cybele invoking roves ; 
 And like madness them befell 
 Who were drunk at Phoebus' well ; 
 But I willingly will prove 
 Both these furies, Wine and Love.
 
 IT 
 
 The Old Lover. 
 XIV. 
 
 By the women I am told 
 
 " 'Las ! Anacreon thou grow'st old, 
 
 Take thy glass and look else, there 
 
 Thou wilt see thy temples bare." 
 
 Whether I be bald or no, 
 
 That I know not, tliis I know, — 
 
 Pleasures, as less time to try 
 
 Old men have, they more should ply. 
 
 2
 
 18 
 
 \_Content'^ 
 XV. 
 
 I NOT care for Gyges' sway, 
 Or the Lyclian sceptre weigh ; 
 Nor am covetous of gold, 
 Nor with envy kings behold : 
 All my care is to prepare 
 Fragrant unguents for my hair ; 
 All my care is where to get 
 Roses for a coronet ; 
 
 j All my care is for to-day ; 
 
 ( What's to-mon-ow who can say ? 
 
 ' Come, then, let us drink and dice, 
 And to Bacchus sacrifice, 
 Ere death come and take us off, 
 Crjdng, Hold ! th' hast drunk enough.
 
 .-.J
 
 19 
 
 The Captive. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Thou of Thebes, of Troy sings he ; 
 
 I my own captivity : 
 
 'Twas no army, horse, or foot, 
 
 Nor a navy brought me to't. 
 
 But a stranger enemy 
 
 Shot me from my mistress' eye.
 
 20 
 
 Hie Wish. 
 XVII. 
 
 NiOBE on Phrygian sands 
 
 Turu'd a weeping statue stands. 
 
 And the Pandionian Maid 
 
 In a swallow's wings array'd ; 
 
 But a mirror I would be, 
 
 To be look'd on still by thee ; 
 
 Or the gown wherein thou'rt drest. 
 
 That I might thy limbs invest ; 
 
 Or a crystal spring, wherein 
 
 Thou might'st bathe thy purer skin ; 
 
 Or sweet unguents, to anoint 
 
 And make supple every joint ; 
 
 Or a knot, thy breast to deck ; 
 
 Or a chain, to clasp thy neck ; 
 
 Or thy shoe I wish to be, 
 
 That thou might'st but tread on me.
 
 21 
 
 Tlie Cup. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Vulcan come, thy hammer take. 
 And of burnish'd silver make 
 (Not a glittering armour, for 
 "What have we to do with war ? 
 But) a large deep bowl, and on it 
 I would have thee carve (no planet: 
 Pleiads, Wains, or Waggoners, 
 What have we to do with stars ? 
 But to life exactly shape) 
 Clusters of the juicy grape ; 
 Whilst brisk Love their bleeding heads 
 Hand in hand with Bacchus treads.
 
 22 
 
 Another. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 All thy skill if tliou collect. 
 Make a cup as I direct : 
 Roses climbing o'er the brim, 
 Yet must seem in wine to swim ; 
 Faces too there should be there, 
 None that frowns or wrinkles wear ; 
 But the sprightly Son of Jove, 
 With the beauteous Queen of Love ; 
 There, beneath a pleasant shade, 
 By a vine's wide branches made, 
 Must the Loves, their arms laid by, 
 Keep the Graces company ; 
 And the bright-hair'd god of day 
 With a youthful bevy play.
 
 23 
 
 \_Tlie Need of Drinking. "l 
 
 XX. 
 
 Fruitful earth drinks up the rain ; 
 Trees from earth drink that again ; 
 The sea drinks the air, the sun 
 Drinks the sea, and him the moon. 
 Is it reason then, d'ye think, 
 I should thirst when all else drink ?
 
 '■V 
 
 4
 
 24 
 
 [Ow. Himself. '\ 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Reach me here that full crown'd cup, 
 And at once I'll drink it up ; 
 For my overcharged breast 
 Pants for drouth, with care opprest ; 
 Whilst a chaplet of cool roses 
 My distemper'd brow incloses ; 
 Love I'll drench in wine ; for these 
 Flames alone can his appease.
 
 jSStL^
 
 25 
 
 Hie Invitation. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Comb, my fair, the heat t' evade, 
 Let us sit beneath this shade ; 
 See, the tree doth bow his head, 
 And his arms t' invite thee spread ; 
 Hark, the kind persuasive spring 
 Murmurs at thy tarrying : 
 Who molested by the sun 
 Would so sweet a refuge shun ? 
 
 I 
 
 '•
 
 •26 
 
 [Gold.] ^ 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 If I thought that gold had power 
 
 To prolong my life one hour, 
 
 I should lay it up, to fee 
 
 Death, when come to summon me ; 
 
 But if life cannot be bought, 
 
 Why complain I then for nought ? 
 
 Death not brib'd at any price, 
 
 To what end is avarice ? 
 
 Fill me then some wine ; but see 
 
 That it brisk and racy be, 
 
 Such as may cold bloods inflame, 
 
 For by Bacchus arm'd we'll aim 
 
 At Cythera's highest pleasure : 
 
 Wine and love's the only treasure.
 
 #
 
 27 
 
 [On Himself.'] 
 
 XXIV. ' 
 
 I AM sprung of human seed, 
 For a life's short race decreed ; 
 Though I know the way I've gone, 
 That which is to come's unknown. 
 Busy thoughts do not disturb me ; 
 What have you to do to curb me ? 
 Come, some wine and music give : 
 Ere we die, 'tis fit we live,
 
 
 ^'
 
 28 
 
 [0?i Hhnselj'.'] 
 
 XXV. 
 
 When with wine my soul is arm'd, 
 All my grief and tears are charm'd ; 
 Life in toils why should we waste, 
 When we're sure to die at last ? 
 Drink we then, nor Bacchus spare : 
 Wine's the antidote of Care.
 
 20 
 
 [^On Himself ."] 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 When my sense in wine I steep. 
 All my cares are lull'd asleep : 
 Rich in thought, I then despise 
 Croesus, and his royalties ; 
 Whilst -with ivy twines I wreath me 
 And sing all the world beneath me. 
 Others run to martial fights, 
 I to Bacchus's delights ; 
 Fill the cup then, boy, for I 
 Drunk than dead had rather lie.
 
 30 
 
 [To Dionysus.'] 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 JovE-born Bacchus, when possest 
 (Care-exiling) of my breast, 
 In a sprightly saraband 
 Guides my foot and ready hand, 
 Which an even measure sets 
 'Twixt my voice and castanets ; 
 Tir'd we sit and kiss, and then 
 To our dancing fall again 

 
 31 
 
 The Picture. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Padstteii, by unmatch'd desert 
 Master of the Rhodian art, 
 Come, my absent mistress take, 
 As I shall describe her : make 
 First her hair, as black as bright. 
 And if colors so much right 
 Can but do her, let it too 
 Smell of aromatic dew ; 
 Underneath this shade, must thou 
 Draw her alabaster brow ; 
 Her dark eyebrows so dispose 
 That they neither part nor close.
 
 32 
 
 But by a divorce so slight 
 Be disjoiii'd, may cheat the sight : 
 From her kindly killing eye 
 Make a flash of lightning fly, 
 Sparkling like Minerva's, yet 
 Like Cythera's mildly sweet : 
 Roses in milk swimming seek 
 For the pattern of her cheek: 
 In her lip such moving blisses, 
 As from all may challenge kisses ; 
 Round about her neck (outvying 
 Parian stone) the Graces flying j 
 And o'er all her limbs at last 
 A loose purple mantle cast ; 
 But so ordered that the eye 
 Some part naked may descry, 
 An essay by which the rest 
 That lies hidden may be guess'd. 
 So, to life th' hast come so near, 
 All of her, but voice, is here.
 
 33 
 
 Another. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 DrA"W my fair as I command, 
 
 Whilst my fancy guides thy hand. 
 
 Black her hair must be, yet bright, 
 
 Tipt, as with a golden light, 
 
 In loose curls thrown o'er her dress 
 
 With a graceful carelessness ; 
 
 On each side her forehead crown 
 
 With an arch of sable down ; 
 
 In her black and sprightly eye 
 
 Sweetness mix with majesty, 
 
 That the soul of every lover 
 
 There 'twixt hope and fear may hover :
 
 34 
 
 In her cheek a blushing red 
 Must by bashfulness be spread ; 
 Such her lips, as if from thence 
 Stole a silent eloquence : 
 Round her face, her forehead high, 
 Neck surpassing ivoiy ; 
 But why all this care to make 
 Her description need we take ? 
 Draw her with exactest art 
 After Venus in each part ; 
 Or to Samos go, and there 
 Venus thou mayst draw by her.
 
 \ I
 
 35 
 
 Love Imprisoned. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Love, in rosy fetters caught, 
 
 To my fair the Muses brought ; 
 
 Gifts his mother did prefer 
 
 To release the prisoner. 
 
 But he'd not be gone though free, 
 
 Pleas'd with his captivity.
 
 36 
 
 Eiiropa. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 This the figure is of Jove, 
 To a bull transform'd by Love, 
 On whose back the Tyrian Maid 
 Through the surges was convey'd : 
 See how swiftly he the wide 
 Sea doth with strong hoofs divide ; 
 He (and he alone) could swim, 
 None o' th' herd e'er follow'd him.
 
 37 
 
 The Accompt. 
 XXXII. 
 
 If thou dost the number know 
 Of the leaves on every bough, 
 If thou can'st the reckoning keep 
 Of the sands within the deep ; 
 Thee of all men will I take, 
 And my Love's accomptant make. 
 Of Athenians first a score 
 Set me down ; then fifteen more ; 
 Add a regiment to these 
 Of Corinthian mistresses. 
 For the most renown'd for fair 
 In Achsea sojourn there ;
 
 38 
 
 Next our Lesbian Beauties tell ; 
 Those that in Ionia dwell ; 
 Those of Rhodes and Caria count ; 
 To two thousand they amount. 
 Wonder'st thou I love so many? 
 'Las of Syria we not any, 
 Egypt yet, nor Ciete have told, 
 Where his orgies Love doth hold. 
 What to those then wilt thou say 
 Which in eastern Bactria, 
 Or the western Gades remain ? 
 But give o'er, thou toil'st in vain ; 
 For the sum which thou dost seek 
 Puzzles all arithmetic.
 
 39 
 
 [The Old Locer.] 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Though my aged head be grey, 
 And thy youth more fresh than May, 
 Fly me not ; oh ! rather see 
 In this wreath how gracefully 
 Roses with pale lilies join : 
 Learn of them, so let us twine.
 
 40 
 
 \ThG Vain Admcc.'\ 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Prythee trouble me no more; 
 
 I will drink, be mad, and roar : 
 
 Alcmseon and Orestes grew 
 
 Mad, when they their mothers slew : 
 
 But I no man having kilFd 
 
 Am with hurtless fury fiU'd. 
 
 Hercules with madness struck. 
 
 Bent his bow, his quiver shook ; 
 
 Ajax mad, did fiercely wield 
 
 Hector's sword, and grasp'd his shield : 
 
 I nor spear nor target have. 
 
 But this cup (my weapon) wave : 
 
 Crown'd with roses, thus for more 
 
 Wine I call, drink, dance, and roar.
 
 41 
 
 The Swallow. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Gentle swallow, thou we know 
 
 Every year dost come and go ; 
 
 In the spring thy nest thou mak'st ; 
 
 In the winter it f orsak'st, 
 
 And divert'st thyself awhile 
 
 Near the Memphian towers, or Nile : 
 
 But Love in my suffering breast 
 
 Builds, and never quits his nest ; 
 
 First one Love's hatch'd ; when that flies, 
 
 In the shell another lies ; 
 
 Then a third is half expos'd ; 
 
 Then a whole brood is disclos'd,
 
 '^i;
 
 42 
 
 Which for meat still peeping cry, 
 
 Whilst the others that can fly 
 
 Do their callow brethren feed, 
 
 And grown up, they young ones breed. 
 
 What then will become of me 
 
 Bound to pain incessantly, 
 
 Whilst so many Loves conspire 
 
 On my heart by turns to tire ?
 
 y
 
 43 
 
 [^Cheerful Living. '\ 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Vex no more thyself and me 
 With demure philosophy : 
 Hollow precepts, only fit 
 To amuse the busy wit; 
 Teach me brisk Lyteus' rites; 
 Teach me Venus' blithe delights ; 
 Jove loves water, give me wine ; 
 That my soul ere I resign 
 . May tliis cure of sorrow have ; 
 There's no drinking in the grave.
 
 t^^i^^jS^i
 
 44 
 
 The Sj)ring. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 See the Spring herself discloses. 
 And the Graces gather roses ; 
 See how the becalmed seas 
 Now their swelling waves appease; 
 How the duck swims, how the crane 
 Comes from winter's home again ; 
 See how Titan's cheerful ray 
 Chaseth the dark clouds away ; 
 Now in their new robes of green 
 Are the ploughman's labours seen ; 
 Now the lusty teeming Earth 
 Springs each hour with a new birth ;
 
 45 
 
 Now the olive blooms : the vine 
 Now doth with plump pendants shine ; 
 And with leaves and blossom now 
 Freshly bourgeons every bough.
 
 46 
 
 [0/^ Himself. 1 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Old I am, yet can (I think) 
 
 Those that younger are out-drink ; 
 
 When I dance no staff I take, 
 
 But a well-fill'd bottle shake : 
 
 He that doth in war delight, 
 
 Come, and with these arms let's fight ; 
 
 Fill the cup, let loose a flood 
 
 Of the rich grape's luscious blood ; 
 
 Old I am, and therefore may, 
 
 Like Silenus, drink and play.
 
 47 
 
 [Frolic Wine,'] 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 When I ply the cheering bowl, 
 Brisk Lyseus through my soul 
 Straight such lively joy diffuses 
 That I sing, and bless the Muses ; 
 Full of wine I cast behind 
 All my sorrows to the wind ; 
 Full of wine my head I crown, 
 Roving loosely up and down ; 
 Full of wine I praise the life, 
 Calmly ignorant of strife ; 
 Full of wine I court some fair, 
 And Cythera's worth declare ;
 
 48 
 
 Full of wine my close thoughts I 
 
 To my jovial friends untie ; 
 
 Wine makes age with new years sprout ; 
 
 Wine denied, my life goes out.
 
 49 
 
 The Bee, 
 
 XL. 
 
 Love, a Bee that lurk'd among 
 
 Roses saw not, and was stung : 
 
 Who for his hurt finger crying. 
 
 Running sometimes, sometimes flying, 
 
 Doth to his fair mother hie, 
 
 And O help, cries he, I die ; 
 
 A wing'd snake hath bitten me, 
 
 Call'd by countrymen a Bee : 
 
 At which Venus, If such smart 
 
 A Bee's little sting impart. 
 
 How much greater is the pain, 
 
 They, whom thou hast hurt, sustain ? 
 4
 
 50 
 
 \_Praise of Bacchus.^ 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Whilst our joys with wine we raise, 
 Youthful Bacchus we will praise. 
 Bacchus dancing did invent ; 
 Bacchus is on songs intent ; 
 Bacchus teacheth Love to court, 
 And his mother how to sport ; 
 Graceful confidence he lends ; 
 He oppressive trouble ends ; 
 To the bowl when we repair. 
 Grief doth vanish into air ; 
 Drink we then, and drown all sorrow ; 
 All our cares not knows the morrow ;
 
 61 
 
 Life is dark, let's dance and play, 
 They that will be troubled may ; 
 We our joys with wine will raise, 
 Youthful Bacchus we will praise.
 
 52 
 
 [Mirth.'] 
 
 XLII. 
 
 I DIVINE Lyseus prize, 
 
 Who with mirth and wit supplies : 
 
 Compass'd with a jovial quire, 
 
 I affect to touch the l}Te : 
 
 But of all my greatest joy 
 
 Is with sprightly maids to toy ; 
 
 My free heart no envy bears, 
 
 Nor another's envy fears ; 
 
 Proof against invective wrongs, 
 
 Brittle shafts of poisonous tongues. 
 
 Wine with quarrels sour'd I hate, 
 
 Or feasts season'd with debate : 
 
 But I love a harmless measure ; 
 
 Life to quiet hath no pleasure.
 
 53 
 
 Tlie Grasshopper. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Grasshopper thrice-happy ! who 
 Sipping the cool morning dew, 
 Queen-like chirpest all the day- 
 Seated on some verdant spray ; 
 Thine is all whate'er earth brings, 
 Or the hours with laden wings ; 
 Thee, the ploughman calls his joy, 
 'Cause thou nothing dost destroy : 
 Thou by all art honour'd ; all 
 Thee the spring's sweet prophet call ; 
 By the Muses thou'rt admir'd, 
 By Apollo art inspir'd
 
 64 
 
 Ageless, ever-singing, good, 
 Without passion, flesh or blood ; 
 Oh how near thy happy state 
 Comes the gods to imitate I
 
 55 
 
 The Dream. 
 XLIV. 
 
 As I late in slumber lay 
 Wing'd methought I ran away, 
 But Love (his feet clogg'd with lead) 
 As thus up and down I fled, 
 Following caught me instantly : 
 What may this strange dream imply ? 
 What but this ? that in my heart 
 Though a thousand Loves had part, 
 I shall now (their snares declin'd) 
 To this only be confin'd.
 
 56 
 
 Love's Arrows. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 In the Lemnian forge of late 
 
 Vulcan making arrows sate, 
 
 Whilst with honey their barb'd points ■ 
 
 Venus, Love with gall anoints : 
 
 Armed Mars by chance comes there. 
 
 Brandishing a sturdy spear, 
 
 And in scorn the little shaft 
 
 Offering to take up, he laugh'd : 
 
 " This," saith Love, " which thou dost 
 
 slight, 
 Is not (if thou try it) light ; " 
 Up Mars takes it, Venus smil'd ; 
 But he (sighing) to the Child, 
 " Take it," cries, " its weight I feel ; " 
 " Nay," says Love, " e'en keep it still."
 
 67 
 
 Gold, 
 
 XL VI. 
 
 Not to love a pain is deem'd, 
 And to love 's the same esteem'd : 
 But of all the greatest pain 
 Is to love unlov'd again. 
 Birth in love is now rejected, 
 Parts and arts are disrespected, 
 Only gold is look'd upon. 
 A curse take him that was won 
 First to doat upon it ; hence 
 Springs 'twixt brothers difference ; 
 This makes parents slighted ; this 
 War's dire cause and fuel is : 
 And what's worst, by this alone 
 Are we lovers overthrown.
 
 68 
 
 \_Youthfid Eld.'] 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Young men dancing, and the old 
 Sporting I with joy behold ; 
 But an old man gay and free 
 Dancing most I love to see ; 
 Age and youth alike he shares, 
 For his heart belies his hairs.
 
 59 
 
 [ Wine the Healer.'] 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 Who his cups can stoutly bear, 
 
 In his cups despiseth fear, 
 
 In his cups can nimbly dance. 
 
 Him Lyseus will advance : 
 
 Nectar of us mortals wine, 
 
 The glad offspring of the vine, 
 
 Screen'd with leaves, preserv'd within 
 
 The plump grape's transparent skin. 
 
 In the body all diseases, 
 
 In the soul all grief appeases.
 
 60 
 
 On a Basin wherein Venus ivas En- 
 graved. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 What bold hand the sea engraves, 
 
 Whilst its undetermin'd waves 
 
 In a dish's narrow round 
 
 Art's more powerful rage doth bound ? 
 
 See, by some Promethean mind 
 
 Cytherea there design'd, 
 
 Mother of the deities, 
 
 Expos'd naked to our eyes 
 
 In all parts, save those alone 
 
 Modesty will not have shown. 
 
 Which for covering only have 
 
 The thin mantle of a wave :
 
 61 
 
 On the surface of the main, 
 Which a smiling calm lays plain, 
 She, like frothy sedges, swims, 
 And displays her snowy limbs : 
 Whilst the foaming billow swells, 
 As her breast its force repels, 
 And her form striving to hide 
 Her doth by her neck divide. 
 Like a lily round beset 
 By the purple violet. 
 Loves, who dolphins do bestride, 
 O'er the silver surges ride, 
 And with many a wanton smile 
 Lovers of their hearts beguile ; 
 Whilst the people of the flood 
 To her side, like wantons, scud.
 
 62 
 
 The Hose. 
 L. 
 
 With the flowery crowned spring 
 Now the vernal rose we sing ; 
 Sons of mirth, your sprightly lays 
 Mix with ours, to sound its praise : 
 Rose, the gods' and men's sweet flower ; 
 Rose, the Graces' paramour: 
 This of Muses the delight. 
 This is Venus' favourite ; 
 Sweet, when guarded by sharp thorns ; 
 Sweet, when it soft hands adorns ; 
 How at mirthful boards admir'd ! 
 How at Bacchus' feasts desir'd ! 
 
 
 - V 
 
 V
 
 63 
 
 Fair without it what is born ? 
 Rosy-finger'd is the Morn ; 
 Rosy-arm' d the nymphs we name ; 
 Rosy-cheek'd Love's queen proclaim : 
 This relief 'gainst sickness lends ; 
 This the very dead befriends ; 
 This Time's malice doth prevent, 
 Old retains its youthful scent. 
 When Cythera fiom the main, 
 Pallas sprung from Jove's crack'd brain, 
 Then the rose receiv'd its birth 
 From the youthful teeming earth ; 
 Every god was its protector, 
 Wat'ring it by turns with nectar. 
 Till from thorns it grew, and prov'd 
 Of Lyseus the belov'd.
 
 64 
 
 The Vintage, 
 
 LI. 
 
 Men and maids at time of year 
 
 The ripe clusters jointly bear 
 
 To the press, but in wlien thrown, 
 
 They by men are trod alone, , 
 
 Who in Bacchus' praises join, 
 
 Squeeze the grape, let out the wine : 
 
 Oh with what delight they spy 
 
 The new must when tunned work high ! 
 
 Which if old men freely take, 
 
 Their grey heads and heels they shake ; 
 
 And a young man, if he find 
 
 Some fair maid to sleep resign'd
 
 65 
 
 In the shade, he straight goes to her, 
 
 Wakes, aud roundly 'gins to woo her, 
 
 Whilst Love slily stealing in 
 
 Tempts her to the pleasing sin ; 
 
 Yet she long resists his offers. 
 
 Nor will hear whate'er he proffers. 
 
 Till perceiving that his prayer 
 
 Melts into regardless air, 
 
 Her, who seemingly refrains, ' 
 
 He by pleasing force constrains ; 
 
 Wine doth boldness thus dispense, 
 
 Teaching young men insolence. 
 5
 
 66 
 
 \_0)i H'miself.~\ 
 
 LII. 
 
 When I see the young men play, 
 Young metliinks I am as they ; 
 And my aged thoughts laid by, 
 To the dance with joy I fly : 
 Come, a flowery chaplet lend me ; 
 Youth and mirthful thoughts attend me; 
 Age be gone, we'll dance among 
 Those that young are, and be young : 
 Bring some wine, boy, fill about ; 
 You shall see the old man's stout ; 
 Who can laugh and tipple too, 
 And be mad as well as you.
 
 67 
 
 ILove's Mark.] 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Horses plainly are descry 'd 
 By the mark upon their side : 
 Parthians are distinguished 
 By the mitres on their head ; 
 But from all men else a lover 
 I can easily discover, 
 For upon his easy breast 
 Love his brand-mark hath imprest.
 
 5'4.
 
 68 
 
 {^Instructions to a Painter.'\ 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Best of painters come, pursue 
 What our Muse invites thee to, 
 And Lyaeus, whose shrill flute 
 Vies with her harmonious lute ; 
 Draw me a full city, where 
 Several shapes of mirth appear ; 
 And the laws of love, if cold 
 Wax so great a flame can hold.
 
 69 
 
 [ Wine and Song.'\ 
 
 LV. 
 
 Bring me hither Homer's lute, 
 Taught with mirth (not wars) to suit 
 Reach a full cup, that I may 
 All the laws of wine obey, 
 Drink, and dance, and to the lyre 
 Sing what Bacchus shall inspire.
 
 70 
 
 The Dream, ' 
 
 In a dream unto me came 
 
 Anacreon, of Teian fame. 
 
 He accosted me, and I 
 
 Ran up to him lovingly, 
 
 And my arms about him threw. 
 
 Old he was, but fair to view, 
 
 Fair, a lover of the vine ; 
 
 His stain'd lip yet breath'd of wine. 
 
 Falteringly he seem'd to tread ; 
 
 (Love his trembling footsteps led ;) 
 
 Crowned was his brow, and he 
 
 Held the garland out to me, 
 
 Of Anacreon it breath'd : 
 
 Straight my forehead (fool I) I wreath'd 
 
 And from that time till to-day 
 
 I by love am plagued alway.
 
 71 
 
 U2)on Cupid. 
 
 As lately I a garland bound, 
 'Mongst roses I there Cupid found ; 
 I took him, put him in my cup. 
 And drunk with wine, I drank liim up. 
 Hence then it is that my poor breast 
 Could never since find any rest.
 
 '■'•%■ 
 
 
 :■'#
 
 72 
 
 The Bowl of Song, 
 
 Sweet the song Anacreon sings, 
 Sweet notes flow from Sappho's strings : 
 Pindar's strains, their sweets among. 
 Add, to crown the bowl of song. 
 Such a triple charm would sure 
 Dionysus' lips allure ; 
 Paphos' sleek-skinn'd queen would deign, 
 Or Love's self, the cup to drain.
 
 m.'-
 
 73 
 
 Spring. 
 
 Pleasant 'tis abroad to stray 
 Thro' the meadow deep in hay, 
 Where soft zephjTs, breathing low, 
 Odorous sweets around us throw : 
 Pleasant, where the gadding vine . 
 Weaves a safe shade, to recline 
 With some dainty girl whose breast 
 Cypris wholly hath possest.
 
 •i-k 
 
 >■; 
 
 '.#•
 
 74 
 
 Runaway Gold. 
 
 When with soft and viewless feet 
 
 Like the wind, and no less fleet, 
 
 Flies me, as he flies alway, 
 
 Gold, that arrant Runaway, 
 
 I pursue not : who is fain 
 
 To hunt a home a hateful bane ? 
 
 Free from Runaway Gold, my breast 
 
 Is of sorrow dispossest ; 
 
 I, to all the winds that blow, 
 
 All my cares abroad may throw : 
 
 I may take my lyre and raise 
 
 Jocund songs in Cupid's praise. 
 
 When my wary sprite disdains 
 
 To be trapped by Runaway's trains.
 
 
 ^.■''
 
 75 
 
 Suddenly he hies unto me 
 
 And with trouble would undo me ; 
 
 Hoping that himself I'll take 
 
 And my darling lyre forsake. 
 
 Faithless Gold, thy labour's naught ; 
 
 By thy snares I'll not be caught. 
 
 More delight than Gold doth bring 
 
 I can gain from my lute-string. 
 
 Thou men's hearts didst sow with guile, 
 
 And with envy them defile ; 
 
 But the lyre. . . .
 
 f
 
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