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Curious stranger! I belong
To the bard of Teian song;
With his mandate now I fly
To the nymph of azure eye;
Ah! that eye has madden'd many,
But the poet more than any!
Venus, for a hymn of love
Warbled in her votive grove
('T was, in sooth, a gentle lay,)
Gave me to the bard away.

See me now,
Thus, with softly-gliding pinion,
To his lovely girl I bear

his faithful minion,

Songs of passion through the air.
Oft he blandly whispers me,
"Soon, my bird, I'll set you free."
But in vain he 'll bid me fly,
I shall serve him till I die.
Never could my plumes sustain
Ruffling winds and chilling rain,
O'er the plains, or in the dell,
On the mountain's savage swell;
Seeking in the desert wood
Gloomy shelter, rustic food.
Now I lead a life of ease,
Far from such retreats as these;
From Anacreon's hand I eat
Food delicious, viands sweet;
Flutter o'er his goblet's brim,
Sip the foamy wine with him.
Then I dance and wanton round
To the lyre's beguiling sound;
Or with gently-fanning wings
Shade the minstrel while he sings:
On his harp then sink in slumbers,
Dreaming still of dulcet numbers!
This is all-away-away-
You have made me waste the day.
How I've chatter'd! prating crow
Never yet did chatter so.

ODE XVI.'

THOU, whose soft and rosy hues
Mimic form and soul infuse;

Ah! that eye has madden'd many, etc.] For tupavvov, in the original, Zeune and Schneider conjecture that we should read Tupavvov, in allusion to the strong influence which this object of his love held over the mind of Polycrates.-See Degen.

Venus, for a hymn of love

Warbled in her votive grove, etc.] "This passage is invaluable, and I do not think that any thing so beautiful or so delicate has ever been said. What an idea does it give of the poetry of the man from whom Venus herself, the mother of the Graces and the Pleasures, purchases a little hymn with one of her favourite doves!"-Longepierre.

De Pauw objects to the authenticity of this ode, because it makes Anacreon his own panegyrist; but poets have a license for praising themselves, which, with some indeed, may be considered as comprised under their general privilege of fiction.

1 This ode and the next may be called companion-pictures; they are highly finished, and give us an excellent idea of the taste of the ancients in beauty. Franciscus Junius quotes them in his third book, "De Pictura Veterum.'

This ode has been imitated by Ronsard, Giuliano, Goselini, etc. etc. Scaliger alludes to it thus in his Anacreontica:

Best of painters! come, portray
The lovely maid that 's far away.
Far away, my soul ! thou art,
But I've thy beauties all by heart.
Paint her jetty ringlets straying,
Silky twine in tendrils playing;
And, if painting hath the skill
To make the spicy balm distil,
Let every little lock exhale
A sigh of perfume on the gale.
Where her tresses' curly flow
Darkles o'er the brow of snow,
Let her forehead beam to light,
Burnish'd as the ivory bright.
Let her eyebrows sweetly rise
In jetty arches o'er her eyes,
Gently in a crescent gliding,
Just commingling, just dividing.
But hast thou any sparkles warm,
The lightning of her eyes to form?
Let them effuse the azure ray
With which Minerva's glances play,

Olim lepore blando,
Litis versibus
Candidus Anacreon
Quam pingeret Amicus
Descripsit Venerem suam.

The Teian bard, of former days,
Attuned his sweet descriptive lays,
And taught the painter's hand to trace
His fair beloved's every grace!

In the dialogue of Caspar Barlæus, entitled "An formosa sit ducenda," the reader will find many curious ideas and descriptions of beauty.

Thou, whose soft and rosy hues

Mimic form and soul infuse.] I have followed the reading of the Vatican MS. podns. Painting is called "the rosy ari," either in reference to colouring, or as an indefinite epithet of excellence, from the association of beauty with that flower. Salvini has adopted this reading in his literal translation:

Della rosea arte signore.

The lovely maid that's far away.] If the portrait of this beauty be not merely ideal, the omission of her name is much to be regretted. Meleager, in an epigram on Anacreon, mentions "the golden Eurypyle" as his mistress:

Βεβληκως χρυσέην χειράς επ' Ευρυπύλην.

Paint her jetty ringlets straying,

Silky twine in tendrils playing;] The ancients have been very enthusiastic in their praises of hair. Apuleius, in the second book of his Milesiacs, says, that Venus herself, if she were bald, though surrounded by the Graces and the Loves, could not be pleasing even to her husband Vulcan.

Stesichorus gave the epithet xxλλжत¤μs to the Graces, and Simonides bestowed the same upon the Muses. See Hadrian Junius's Dissertation upon Hair.

To this passage of our poet, Selden alluded in a note on the Polyolbion of Drayton, song the second; where, observing that the epithet "black-haired" was given by some of the ancients to the goddess Isis, he says, "Nor will I swear, but that Anacreon (a man very judicious in the provoking motives of wanton love,) intending to bestow on his sweet mistress that one of the titles of woman's special ornament, well-haired (xxxxμs,) thought of this when he gave his painter direction to make her blackhaired."

And, if painting hath the skill

To make the spicy balm distil, etc.] Thus Philostratus, speaking of a picture: επαίνω και τον ενδροσον των ρόδων, και φημι γεγράφθαι αυτα μετα της οσμής. “I admire the dewiness of these roses, and could say that their very smell was painted."

And give them all that liquid fire
That Venus' languid eyes respire.
O'er her nose and cheek be shed
Flushing white and mellow red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.
Then her lip, so rich in blisses!
Sweet petitioner for kisses!
Pouting nest of bland persuasion,
Ripely suing Love's invasion.
Then beneath the velvet chin,
Whose dimple shades a Love within,
Mould her neck with grace descending,
In a heaven of beauty ending;
While airy charms, above, below,
Sport and flutter on its snow.

Now let a floating, lucid veil

Shadow her limbs, but not conceal;

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A charm may peep, a hue may beam,
And leave the rest to Fancy's dream.
Enough 't is she! 't is all I seek;
It glows, it lives, it soon will speak!

ODE XVII.1

AND now, with all thy pencil's truth,
Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth!
Let his hair, in lapses bright,
Fall like streaming rays of light;
And there the raven's dye confuse
With the yellow sunbeam's hues.
Let not the braid, with artful twine,
The flowing of his locks confine;
But loosen every golden ring,
To float upon the breeze's wing.
Beneath the front of polish'd glow,
Front as fair as mountain snow,
And guileless as the dews of dawn,
Let the majestic brows be drawn,
Of ebon dyes, enrich'd by gold,
Such as the scaly snakes unfold.
Mingle in his jetty glances

Power that awes, and love that trances;

art of description, which leaves imagination to complete the picture, has been seldom adopted in the imitations of this beautiful poem. Ronsard is exceptionably minute; and Politianus, in his charming portrait of a girl, full of rich and exquisite diction, has lifted the veil rather too much. The questo che tu m'intendi” should be always left to fancy. 1 The reader who wishes to acquire an accurate idea of

The mingled expression of dignity and tenderness, which Anacreon requires the painter to infuse into the eyes of his mistress, is more amply described in the subsequent ode. Both descriptions are so exquisitely touched, that the artisthe judgment of the ancients in beauty, will be indulged by must have been great indeed, if he did not yield in painting

to the poet:

book, where he will find a very curious selection of descripconsulting Junius de Pictura Veterum, ninth chapter, third tions and epithets of personal perfections; he compares this ode with a description of Theodoric, king of the Goths, in In snowy milk the bashful rose.] Thus Propertius, eleg. the second epistle, first book of Sidonius Apollinaris.

Gradual tints, as when there glows

3. lib. ii.

Utque rosa puro lacte natant folia.

And Davenant, in a little poem called "The Mistress,"

Catch, as it falls, the Scythian snow,
Bring blushing roses steep'd in milk.

Thus, too, Taygetus:

Que lac atque rosas vincis candore rubenti. These last words may perhaps defend the "flushing white" of the translation.

Then her lip, so rich in blisses!

Sweet petitioner for kisses!] The "lip, provoking kisses," in the original, is a strong and beautiful expression. Achilles Tatius speaks of χειλη μαλθακα προς τα φιλήματα, "Lips soft and delicate for kissing." A grave old commentator, Dionysius Lambinus, in his notes upon Lucretius, tells us, with all the authority of experience, that girls who have large lips kiss infinitely sweeter than others! "Suavius viros osculantur puellæ labios, quam quæ sunt brevibus labris." And Eneas Sylvius, in his tedious uninteresting story of the adulterous loves of Euryalus and Lucretia, where he particularizes the beauties of the heroine (in a very false and laboured style of latinity,) describes her lips as exquisitely adapted for biting: "Os parvum decensque, labia corallini coloris ad morsum aptissima." Epist. 114.

lib. i.

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Let his hair, in lapses bright,

Fall like streaming rays of light; etc.] He here describes the sunny hair, the "flava coma," which the ancients so much admired. The Romans gave this colour artificially to their hair. See Stanisl. Kobiensyck de Luxu Roman

orum.

Let not the braid, with artful twine, etc.] If the original here, which is particularly beautiful, can admit of any additional value, that value is conferred by Gray's admiration of it. See his Letters to West.

Some annotators have quoted on this passage the description of Photis's hair in Apuleius; but nothing can be more distant from the simplicity of our poet's manner than that affectation of richness which distinguishes the style of Apuleius.

Front as fair as mountain-snow,

And guileless as the dews of dawn, etc.] Torrentius, upon the words "insignem tenui fronte," in the thirty-third ode of the first book of Horace, is of opinion that "tenui" bears the meaning of axov here; but he is certainly incorrect.

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Steal from Venus bland desire,
Steal from Mars the look of fire,
Blend them in such expression here,
That we, by turns, may hope and fear!
Now from the sunny apple seek

The velvet down that spreads his cheek!
And there let Beauty's rosy ray
In flying blushes richly play ;-
Blushes of that celestial flame

Which lights the cheek of virgin shame.
Then for his lips, that ripely gem-
But let thy mind imagine them!
Paint, where the ruby cell uncloses,
Persuasion sleeping upon roses;
And give his lip that speaking air,
As if a word was hovering there!
His neck of ivory splendour trace,
Moulded with soft but manly grace;
Fair as the neck of Paphia's boy,
Where Paphia's arms have hung in joy.
Give him the winged Hermes' hand,
With which he waves his snaky wand;
Let Bacchus then the breast supply,
And Leda's son the sinewy thigh.
But oh! suffuse his limbs of fire
With all that glow of young desire

Oh! tell me, brightly-beaming eye,
Whence in your little orbit lie
So many different traits of fire,
Expressing each a new desire?
Now with angry scorn you darkle,
Now with tender anguish sparkle,
And we, who view the various mirror,
Feel at once both hope and terror.

Monsieur Chevreau, citing the lines of our poet, in his critique on the poems of Malherbe, produces a Latin version of them from a manuscript which he had seen, entitled "Joan Falconis Anacreontici Lusus."

Persuasion sleeping upon roses.] It was worthy of the delicate imagination of the Greeks to deify Persuasion, and give her the lips for her throne. We are here reminded of a very interesting fragment of Anacreon, preserved by the scholiast upon Pindar, and supposed to belong to a poem reflecting with some severity on Simonides, who was the first, we are told, that ever made a hireling of his muse.

Ουδ' αργυρέη κατ' έλαμψε Πειθω.

Nor yet had fair Persuasion shone
In silver splendours, not her own.

And give his lip that speaking air,

As if a word was hovering there!] In the original λαλών σιωπη. The mistress of Petrarch "parla con silentio," which is perhaps the best method of female eloquence.

Give him the winged Hermes' hand, etc.] In Shakspeare's Cymbeline there is a similar method of description; this is his hand,

His foot Mercurial, h's martial thigh
The brawns of Hercules.

We find it likewise in Hamlet. Longepierre thinks that the han is of Mercury are selected by Anacreon, on account as Regnier has it, who supports the reading. Avtos would of the graceful gestures which were supposed to character- undoubtedly bear this application, which is somewhat simiize the gol of eloquence; but Mercury was also the patronlar to its import in the epigram of Simonides upon Sophoof thieves, and may perhaps be praised as a light-fingered cles: deity.

But oh! suffuse his limbs of fire

With all that glow of young desire, etc.] I have taken the liberty here of somewhat veiling the original. Madame Dacier, in her translation, has hung out lights (as Sterne would call it) at this passage. It is very much to be regretted, that this substitution of asterisks has been so much adopted in the popular interpretations of the Classics; it serves but to bring whatever is exceptionable into notice, "claramque facem præferre pudendis."

Which kindles when the wishful sigh
Steals from the heart, unconscious why.
Thy pencil, though divinely bright,
Is envious of the eye's delight,
Or its enamour'd touch would show
His shoulder, fair as sunless snow,
Which now in veiling shadow lies,
Removed from all but Fancy's eyes.
Now, for his feet-but, hold--forbear-
I see a godlike portrait there;
So like Bathyllus !-sure there's none
So like Bathyllus but the Sun!
Oh, let this pictured god be mine,
And keep the boy for Samos' shrine;
Phoebus shall then Bathyllus be,
Bathyllus then the deity!

ODE XVIII.'

Now the star of day is high,
Fly, my girls, in pity fly,
Bring me wine in brimming urns,
Cool my lip, it burns, it burns!
Sunn'd by the meridian fire,
Panting, languid, I expire!

Give me all those humid flowers,

Drop them o'er my brow in showers.
Scarce a breathing chaplet now
Lives upon my feverish brow;

But, hold-forbear

I see a godlike portrait there.] This is very spirited, but it requires explanation. While the artist is pursuing the portrait of Bathyllus, Anacreon, we must suppose, turns round and sees a picture of Apollo, which was intended for an altar at Samos; he instantly tells the painter to cease his work; that this picture will serve for Bathyllus; and that, when he goes to Samos, he may make an Apollo of the portrait of the boy which he had begun.

"Bathyllus (says Madame Dacier) could not be more eleganly praised, and this one passage does him more honour than the statue, however beautiful it might be, which Polycrates raised to him."

1 "An elegant translation of this ode may be found in Ramler's Lyr. Blumenslese, lib. v. p. 403."-Degen.

Bring me wine in brimming urns, etc.] Orig. WIEL avor. "The amystis was a method of drinking used among the Thracians. Thus Horace, "Threicia vincat amystide." Mad. Dacier, Longepierre, etc. etc.

Parrhasius, in his twenty-sixth epistle (Thesaur. Critic. vol. i.) explains the amystis as a draught to be exhausted without draw ng breath, "uno haustu." A note in the margin of this epistle of Parihasius says, "Politianus vestem esse putabat," but I cannot find where.

Give me all those humid flowers, etc.] By the original reading of this line, the poet says, "Give me the flower of wine"-Date flosculos Lyæi, as it is in the version of Elias Andreas; and

Deh porgetimi del fiore
Di quel almo e buon liquore,

Εσβέστης, γέραις Σοφοκλέες, ανθος αοιδών.

And flos, in the Latin, is frequently applied in this mannerthus Cethegus is called by Ennius, Flos illibatus populi, suadæque medulla, "The immaculate flower of the people, and the very morrow of persuasion," in those verses cited by Aulus Gellius, lib. xii. which Cicero praised, and Seneca thought ridiculous.

But in the passage before us, if we admit exELY@y, according to Faber's conjecture, the sense is sufficiently clear, and we need not have recourse to refiuements.

Every dewy rose I wear
Sheds its tears, and withers there
But for you, my burning mind!
Oh! what shelter shall I find?
Can the bowl, or flow'ret's dew,
Cool the flame that scorches you?

Hark! they whisper, as they roll,
Calm persuasion to the soul;
Tell me, tell me, is not this

All a stilly scene of bliss?
Who, my girl, would pass it by?
Surely neither you nor I!

ODE XIX.

'Here recline you, gentle maid, Sweet is this imbowering shade; Sweet the young, the modest trees, Ruffled by the kissing breeze; Sweet the little founts that weep, Lulling bland the mind to sleep;

Every dewy rose I wear

Sheds its tears, and withers there.] There are some beautiful lines, by Augeriamus, upon a garland, which I cannot resist quoting here:

Ante fores madida sic sic pendete corollæ,
Mane orto imponet Cælia vos capiti;

At cum per niveam cervicem influxerit humor,
Dicite, non roris sed pluvia hæc lacrima.

By Celia's arbour all the night

Hang, humid wreath, the lover's vow;
And haply, at the morning light,

My love shall twine thee round her brow.

Then if, upon her bosom bright

Some drops of dew shall fall from thee,
Tell her, they are not drops of night,

But tears of sorrow shed by me!

In the poem of Mr. Sheridan, "Uncouth is this mosscover'd grotto of stone," there is an idea very singularly coincident with this of Angerianus, in the stanza which begins, And thou, stony grot, in thy arch 'st preserve. may

But for you my burning mind! etc.] The transition here is peculiarly delicate and impassioned; but the commentators have perplexed the sentiment by a variety of readings and conjectures.

1 The description of this bower is so natural and animated, that we cannot help feeling a degree of coolness and freshness while we read it. Longepierre has quoted from the first book of the Anthologia, the following epigram, as somewhat resembling this ode:

Ερχεο, και κατ' εμαν ίζευ πιτυν, α το μελιχρον
Προς μαλακούς ήχει κεκλιμένα ζέφυρους.

Ηνίδι και κρούνισμα μελισταγές, ενθα μελίσδων
Ηδυν ερημαίαις υπνου αγω καλάμοις.

Come, sit by the shadowy pine
That covers my sylvan retreat,
And see how the branches incline
The breathing of Zephyr to meet.

See the fountain, that, flowing, diffuses
Around me a glittering spray;
By its brink, as the traveller muses,

I soothe him to sleep with my lay!

Here recline you, gentle maid, etc.] The Vatican MS. reads Bauxλou, which renders the whole poem metaphorical. Some commentator suggests the reading of Baburaov, which makes a pun upon the name; a grace that Plato himself has condescended to in writing of his boy Arτup. See the epigram of this philosopher, which I quote on the twenty-second ode.

There is another epigram by this philosopher, preserved in Laertius, which turns upon the same word:

Αστηρ πριν μεν ελάμπες ενι ζώοισιν εωός

Νυν δε θάνων, λαμπεις εσπερος εν φθιμενοις.

In life thou wert my morning-star,

But now that death has stolen thy light,
Alas! thou shinest dim and far,

Like the pale beam that weeps at night.

In the Veneres Blyenburgica, under the head of " allu

ODE XX.

'One day the Muses, twined the nands Of baby Love, with flowery bands; And to celestial Beauty gave

The captive infant as her slave.

siones," we find a number of such frigid conceits upon names, selected from the poets of the middle ages.

Who, my girl, would pass it by?

Surely neither you nor I!] What a finish he gives to the picture by the simple exclamation of the original! In these delicate turns he is inimitable; and yet, hear what a French translator says on the passage: "This conclusion appeared to me too trifling after such a description, and I thought proper to add somewhat to the strength of the original."

1 By this allegory of the Muses making Cupid the pri soner of Beauty, Anacreon seems to insinuate the softening influence which a cultivation of poetry has over the mind, in making it peculiarly susceptible to the impressions of beauty.

Though in the following epigram, by the philosopher Plato, which is found in the third book of Diogenes Laertius, the muses are made to disavow all the influence of Love:

Α Κύπρις Μουσαισι, κοράσια των Αφροδίταν
Τιματ' η τον Ερωτα ύμμιν εφοπλίσομαι.
Α. Μοίσαι ποτι Κύπριν. Αρει τα στωμυλα ταυτα
Ημιν ου πεταται τούτο το παιδάριον.

"Yield to my gentle power, Parnassian maids;"
Thus to the Muses spoke the Queen of Charms-
"Or Love shall flutter in your classic shades,
And make your grove the camp of Paphian arms!"

"No," said the virgins of the tuneful bower,
"We scorn thine own and all thy urchin's art;
Though Mars has trembled at the infant's power,
His shaft is pointless o'er a Muse's heart!"

There is a sonnet by Benedetto Guidi, the thought of which was suggested by this ode.

Scherzava dentro all' auree chiome Amore
Dell' alma donna della vita mia:
E tanta era il piacer ch' ei ne sentia,
Che non sapea, ué volea uscirne fore.
Quando ecco ivi annodar si sente il core,
Si, che per forza ancor convein che stia:
Tai lacci alta beltate orditi avia
Del crespo crin; per farsi eterno onore
Onde offre infin dal ciel dagna mercede,
A chi scioglie il figliuol la bella dea
Da tanti nodi, in ch' ella stretto il vede.
Ma ei vinto a due occhi l'arme cede:
Et t' affatichi indarno, Citerea;
Che s' altri 'l scioglie, egli a legar si riede.

Love, wandering through the golden maze
Of my beloved's hair,

Traced every lock with fond delays,
And, doting, linger'd there.
And soon he found 't were vain to fly,
His heart was close confined;
And every curlet was a tie,
A chain by Beauty twined.

Now Venus seeks her boy's release,
With ransom from above:
But, Venus! let thy efforts cease,

For Love's the slave of love.

And, should we loose his golden chain,

The prisoner would return again!

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This "something more" is the quidquid post oscula dulce

of Secundus.

ODE XXII.1

THE Phrygian rock, that braves the storm,
Was once a weeping matron's form;
And Progne, hapless, frantic maid,
Is now a swallow in the shade.

1 Ogilvie, in his Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients, in remarking upon the Odes of Anacreon, says, "In some of his pieces there is exuberance and even wildness of imagination; in that particularly which is addressed to a young girl, where he wishes alternately to be transformed

After this ode, there follow in the Vatican MS. these ex-to a mirror, a coat, a stream, a bracelet, and a pair of shoes, traordinary lines:

Ηδύμελης Ανακρέων

Ηδύμελης δε Σαπφω

Πινδαρικόν το δε μοι μέλος

Συγκεράσας τις έγχεσι

Τα τρία ταυτα μοι δοκεί

Και Διόνυσος εισελθών

Και Πάοιη παραχροος

Και αυτος Ερως και επιειν.

These lines, which appear to me to have as little sense as metre, are most probably the interpolation of the tran

scriber.

for the different purposes which he recites; this is mere sport and wantonness."

It is the wantonness, however, of a very graceful muse; Judit amabiliter. The compliment of this ode is exquisitely delicate, and so singular for the period in which Anacreon lived, when the scale of love had not yet been graduated into all its little progressive refinements, that if we were inclined to question the authenticity of the poem, we should find a much more plausible argument in the features of modern gallantry which it bears, than in any of those fastidious con jectures upon which some commentators have presumed so far. Degen thinks it spurious, and De Pauw pronounces it to be miserable. Longepierre and Barnes refer us to several imitations of this ode, from which I shall only select an epi

1 The commentators who have endeavoured to throw the
chains of precision over the spirit of this beautiful trifle, re-gram of Dionysius:
quire too much from Anacreontic philosophy. Monsieur
Gail very wisely thinks that the poet uses the epithet μ-
Av, because black earth absorbs moisture more quickly
than any other; and accordingly he indulges us with an ex-
perimental disquisition on the subject. See Gail's notes.
One of the Capilupi has imitated this ode, in an epitaph on
a drunkard.

Dum vixi sine fine bibi, sie imbrifer arcus,
Sic tellus pluvias sole perusta bibit.
Sic bibit assidue fontes et flumina Pontus,
Sic semper sitiens Sol maris haurit aquas.
Ne te igitur jactes plus me, Silene, bibisse;
Et mihi da victas tu quoque, Bacche, manus.
Hippolytus Capilupus.

While life was mine, the little hour
In drinking still unvaried flew;
I drank as earth imbibes the shower,
Or as the rainbow drinks the dew;

As ocean quaffs the rivers up,

Or flushing sun inhales the sea;

Silenus trembled at my cup,

And Bacchus was outdone by me!

I cannot omit citing these remarkable lines of Shakspeare, where the thoughts of the ode before us are preserved with such striking similitude:

TIMON, ACT IV.

I'll example you with thievery.
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea. The moon 's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The mounds into salt tears. The earth's a thief,
That feeds, and breeds by a composture stolen
From general excrements.

Είθ' ανεμος γενόμην, συ δε γε στει χουσα παρ' αυγάς,
Στεθεα γυμνωσαις, και με πνέοντα λάβοις.
Είθε ροδον γενομην υποπορφυρον, οφρα με χερσιν
Αραμένη, κομίσαις στεθεσι χιονεοις.

Είθε κρινον γενομην λευκοχροον, όφρα με χερσιν
Αραμένη, μαλλον της χροτιης κορέσης.

I wish I could like zephyr steal

To wanton o'er thy mazy vest;

And thou wouldst ope thy bosom veil,
And take me panting to thy breast!

I wish I might a rose-bud grow,

And thou wouldst cull me from the bower,
And place me on that breast of snow,
Where I should bloom, a wintry flower!

I wish I were the lily's leaf,

To fade upon that bosom warm;

There I should wither, pale and brief,

The trophy of thy fairer form!

Allow me to add, that Plato has expressed as fanciful a wish in a distich preserved by Laertius:

Αστερας εισαθρεις, αστηρ εμος, είθε γενοίμην
Ουρανος, ως πολλοις όμμασιν εις σε βλεπω

TO STELLA.

Why dost thou gaze upon the sky?

Oh! that I were that spangled sphere,
And every star should be an eye

To wonder on thy beauties here!

Apuleius quotes this epigram of the divine philosopher, to justify himself for his verses on Critias and Charinus. See his Apology, where he also adduces the example of Anacreon; "Fecere tamen et alii talia, et si vos ignoratis, apud Græcos Teius quidam," etc. etc.

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