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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 every hour is glory's hour,

To him who gathers wisdom's flower!
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 sound for sound!
Muse of the Lyre! illume my dream,
Thy Phœbus 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 twined
Around the godhead's yielding mind;
I sing the blushing Daphne's flight
From this æthereal 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, in sympathetic thrill,
In terror seem'd to tremble still!

The god pursued, with wing'd desire;
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 maddening dream of soul
Has hurried me beyond the goal.
Why should I sing the mighty darts
Which fly to wound celestial hearts,

1 This hymn to Apollo is supposed not to have been written by Anacreon, and it certainly is rather a sublimer flight than the Teian wing is accustomed to soar. But we ought not to judge from this diversity of style, in a poet of whom time has preserved such partial relics. If we knew Horace but as a satirist, should we easily believe there could dwell such animation in his lyre? Suidas says that our poet wrote hymns, and this perhaps is one of them. can perceive in what an altered and imperfect state his works are at present, when we find a scholiast upon Horace citing an ode from the third book of Anacreon.

And how the tender, timid maid

Flew panting to the kindly shade, etc.] Original:
Το μεν εκπεφευγε κεντρον,
Φύσεως δ' αμειψν μορφήν.


I find the word pov here has a double force, as it also signifies that "omnium parentem, quam sanctus Numa," etc. etc. (See Martial.) In order to confirm this import of the word here, those who are curious in new readings may place the stop after qursus thus:

Το μεν εκπεφευγε κεντρον Φύσεως, δ' αμείψα μορφήν.

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 when the youth, whose burning soul
Has felt the Paphian star's control,
When he the liquid lays shall hear,
His heart will flutter to his ear,
And drinking there of song divine,
Banquet on intellectual wine!


GOLDEN hues of youth are fled; Hoary locks deform my head. Bloomy graces, dalliance gay, All the flowers of life decay

Still be Anacreon, still inspire

The descant of the Teian lyre.] The original is Tor Ar κρέοντα μιμου. I 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 scarce be supported.

Tov Avaxprovтa μopov, "Imitate Anacreon." Such is the lesson given us by the lyrist; and if, in poetry, a simple elegance of sentiment, enriched by the most playful felicities of fancy, be a charm which invites or deserves imitation, where shall we find such a guide as Anacreon? In morality, too, with some little reserve, I think we might not blush 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 would 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 hate the slanderous dart,

Which steals to wound the unwary heart,

how many are there in the world to whom we would wish to say, Τον Ανακρέοντα μιμου

Here ends the last of the odes in the Vatican MS. whose authority confirms the genuine antiquity of them all, though a 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 had 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 Πτεροισι συγκαλυψ he says, "Vatican MS. σurov, etiam Presciano invito," though the MS. reads συγκαλύψω, with συσκιασω interlined. Degen, too, on the same line, is somewhat in error. In the twenty-second ode of this series, line thirteenth, the MS has TEVER with interlined, and Barnes imputes to it the reading of rev. In the fifty-seventh, line twelfth, he professes to have preserved the reading of the MS. Anμsin d' = xurs, while the latter has aλaλRMEVOG ♪ o auta. Almost all the other annotators have transplanted these errors from Barnes.

less levities of our poet, has always reminded me of the 1 The intrusion of this melancholy ode among the careskeletons 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 Teian Muse should disown this ode. Quid habet illius, illius quæ spirabat amores?

To Stobæus we are indebted for it.

Bloomy graces, dalliance gay,

All the flowers of life decay.] Horace often, with feeling and elegance, deplores the fugacity of human enjoyments See book ii. ode 11; and thus in the second epistle, book ii Singula de nobis anni prædantur euntes, Eripuere jocos, venerem, convivia, ludum. 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.

Withering age begins to trace
Sad memorials o'er my face;
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:
And, the gloomy travel o'er,
Ah! we can return no more!


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!
To Love, for heaven and earth adore him,
And gods and mortals bow before him!


FILI. me, boy, as deep a draught
As e'er was filled, as e'er was quaff'd;
But let the water amply flow,
To cool the grape's intemperate glow;
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 soothes and blesses!
And while the temperate bowl we wreathe,
Our choral hymns shall sweetly breathe,
Beguiling every hour along

With harmony of soul and song!

Dreary is the thought of dying, etc.] 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 poem, addressed to the Marquis La Farre.

Plus j' approche du terme et moins je le redoute, etc.

I shall leave it to the moralist to make his reflections here: it is impossible to be very anacreontic on such a subject.

And, the gloomy travel o'er,

Ah! we can return no more!] Scaliger, upon Catullus's well-known lines, "Qui nunc it per iter," etc. remarks, that Acheron, with the same idea, is called avegodos, by Theo critus, and Surrex&popos by Nicander.

1 This ode consists of two fragments, which are to be found in Athenæus, book x. and which Barnes, from the similarity of their tendency, has combined into one. 1 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 flow,

To cool the grape's intemperate glow, etc.] 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:

Ardentem ex utero Semeles lavere Lymum
Naiades, extincto fulminis igne sacri;
Cum nymphis igitur tractabilis, at sine nymphis
Candenti rursus fulmine corripitur.
Pierius Valerianus.

Which is, non verbum verbo,

While heavenly fire consumed his Theban dame,
A Naiad caught young Bacchus from the flame,
And dipp'd him burning in her purest lymph:
Still, still he loves the sea-maid's crystal urn,
And when his native fires infuriate burn,

He bathes him in the fountain of the nymph.


HASTE thee, nymph, whose winged spear
Wounds the fleeting mountain-deer!

Dian, Jove's immortal child,
Huntress of the savage wild!
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?


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?
Believe me, girl, it is not so;

Thou'lt find this skilful hand can throw
The reins upon that tender form,
However wild, however warm!

1 "This fragment is preserved in Clemens Alexandrinus, Strom. lib. vi. and in Arsenius, Collect. Græc."-Barnes. It appears to have been the opening of a hymn in praise of Love.

2 This hymn to Diana is extant in Hephaestion. There is an anecdote of our poet, which has led to some 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 Barnes.) Anacreon being asked, why he addressed all his hymns to women, and none to the deities? answered, "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."

Turn, to Lethe's river turn,

There thy vanquish'd people mourn!] Lethe, a river of Ionia, according to Strabo, falling into the Meander; near to it was situated the town Magnesia, in favour of whose inhabitants our poet is supposed to have addressed this supplication to Diana. It was written (as Madame Dacier conjectures) on the occasion of some battle, in which the Magnesians had been defeated.

3 This ode, which is addressed to some Thracian girl, exists in Heraclides, and has been imitated very frequently by Horace, 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 belonging 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 the horse was the hieroglyphical emblem of pride.

Thou'lt own that I can tame thy force, And turn and wind thee in the course. Though wasting now thy careless hours, Thou sport'st amid the herbs and flowers, Thou soon shalt feel the rein's control, And tremble at the wish'd-for goal!


To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine, Fairest of all that fairest shine; To thee, thou blushing young Desire, Who rulest the world with darts of fire! 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 Power, 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! Stratocles, impassion'd youth! Dear to the Queen of amorous truth, And dear to her, whose yielding zone Will soon resign her all thine own; Turn to Myrilla, turn thine eye, Breathe to Myrilla, breathe thy sigh! 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!

1 This ode is introduced in the Romance of Theodorus Prodromus, and is that kind of epithalamium which was sung like a scholium 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 deplore. A subject so interesting to an amorous fancy was warmly 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:

Ολβιο γαμβρε, σοι μεν δη γαμος ως αρχο, Εκτετελεστή, έχεις δε παρθενον αν αραν. See Scaliger, in his Poetics, on the Epithalamium. And foster there an infant tree, To blush like her, and bloom like thee!] Original Kuxριττος δε πετύχει σεν * x. 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 podov, says, "Hortum quoque vocant in quo flos ille carpitur, et Græcis κήπον εστι το εφηβαίον γυναικών.

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 verses, "Ut flos in septis," etc. which is the repetition of the line, "Multi illum pueri, multe optavere puellæ," with the slight alteration of nulli


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 gray,
Believe me oft with converse gay;
I've chain'd the years of tender age,
And boys have loved 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, unrefined,
Nature has never formed to see
The beauties of simplicity!
Simplicity, the flower of heaven,
To souls elect, by Nature given!


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!


Now Neptune's sullen mouth appears,
The angry night-cloud swells with tears;
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 nullæ. Catullus himself, however, has been equally injudicious in his version of the famous ode of Sappho; he has translated yeawous susposy, but takes no notice of adu φωνούσας. Horace has caught the spirit of it more faithfully:

Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,
Dulce loquentem.

ments, which is a liberty that perhaps may be justified by 1 I have formed this poem of three or four different fragthe example of Barnes, who has thus compiled the fiftyseventh of his edition, and the little ode beginning p' udup,

poor, w, 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 I refer the reader for the names of the authors by whom they are preserved.

And boys have loved the prattling sage!] Monsieur Chaulieu has given a very amiable idea of an old man's intercourse with youth:

Que cherché par les jeunes gens,
Pour leurs erreurs plein d'indulgence,
Je tolere leur imprudence

En faveur de leurs agrémens.

2 This fragment is preserved in the third book of Strabo. Of the Tartessian prince my own.] He here alludes to Arganthonius, who lived, according to Lucian, a hundred and fifty years; and reigned, according to Herodotus, eighty. See Barnes.

eighty-first in Barnes. They are both found in Eustathius 3 This is composed of two fragments; the seventieth and

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And enery guest, to shade his head, I must here apologise for omitting a very considerable Three little breathing chaplets spread.] Longepierre, to fragment imputed to our poet, avond Eupuzva μsas, etc. give an idea of the luxurious estimation in which garlands which is preserved in the twelfth book of Athenæus, and is were held by the ancients, relates an anecdote of a courte-the ninety-first in Barnes. If it was really Anacreon who zan, who, in order to gratify three lovers, without leaving wrote it, nil fuit unquam sic impar sibi. It is in a style of cause for jealousy with any of them, gave a kiss to one, let gross satire, and is full of expressions which never could be the other drink after her, and put a garland on the brow of gracefully translated. the third; so that each was satisfied with his favour, and flattered himself with the preference.

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3 This fragment is preserved by Dion.-Chrysostom, Orat. ii. de Regno. See Barnes, 93.

4 This fragment, which is extant in Athenæus (Barnes, 101,) is supposed, on the authority of Chamaleon, to have been addressed to Sappho. We have also a stanza attributed to her, which some romancers have supposed to be her answer to Anacreon. "Mais par malheur (as Bayle says) Sappho vint au monde environ cent ou six vingts ans avant Anacreon." Nouvelles de la Rép. des lett. tom. 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:

Κείνον, ως χρυσοθρονο Μουσ', ενισπες
Υμνον, εκ της καλλιγυναικός εσύλας
Τγιος χώρας ον αείδε τερπνως

Πρισίους αγαυος.

Oh Muse! who sitt'st on golden throne,
Full many a hymn of dulcet tone

The Teian sage is taught by thee;
But, goddess, from thy throne of gold,
The sweetest hymn thou 'st ever told,
He lately learn'd and sang for me.

Come, within a fragrant cloud,
Blushing with light, thy votary shroud;
And, on those wings that sparkling play,
Waft, oh! waft me hence away!
Love 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 silver'd hues
Which Time upon my forehead strews.
Alas! I fear she keeps her charms
In store for younger, happier arms!

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!


WOULD that I were a tuneful lyre,
Of burnish'd ivory fair,
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!


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,
"Fare thee well, thou 'st had thy day!"
* 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!

1 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.

2 This is generally inserted among the remains of Alcæus. Some, however, have attributed it to Anacreon. See our poet's twenty-second ode, and the notes.

3 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


4 Barnes 125th. This, if I remember right, is in Scaliger's Poetics. Gail has omitted it in his collection of fragments.

'LET me resign a wretched breath,
Since now remains to me
No other balm than kindly death,
To sooth my misery!

2 I KNOW thou lovest a brimming measure,
And art a kindly cordial host;
But let me fill and drink at pleasure,
Thus I enjoy the goblet most.

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!

FROM dread Leucadia's frowning steep I'll plunge into the whitening deep, And there I'll float, to waves resign'd, For love intoxicates my mind!

"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 !

AMONG the Epigrams of the Anthologia, there are some 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

1 This fragment is extant in Arsenius and Hephæstion. See Barnes, (69th,) who has arranged the metre of it very elegantly.

2 Barnes, 72d. This fragment, which is quoted by Athe næus, is an excellent lesson for the votaries of Jupiter Hospitalis.

3 This fragment is in Hephaestion. See Barnes, 95th.
Catullus expresses something of this contrariety of feeling:
Odi et amo; quare id faciam fortasse requiris;
Nescio: sed fieri sentio, et excrucior. Carm. 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 I love thee and hate thee, but cannot tell why.

of some poem, in which Anacreon had commemorated 4 This also is in Hephaston, and perhaps is a fragment the fate of Sappho. It is in the 123d of Barnes.

Phalareus, and Eustathius, and is subjoined in his edition 5 This fragment is collected by Barnes from Demetrius to the epigrams attributed to our poet. And here is the last of those little scattered flowers which I thought I might venture with any grace to transplant. I wish it could be said of the garland which they form, To d' wh' AvaxpsovтOS

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