Obrazy na stronie

Where many an early rose was weeping, The locks upon thy brow are few,
I found the urchin Cupid sleeping." And, like the rest, they're withering
I caught the boy, a goblet's tide

Was richly mantling by my side, Whether decline has thinned my hair,
I caught him by his downy wing, I'm sure I neither know nor care ;3
And whelm'd him in the racy spring. But this I know, and this I feel,
Oh! then I drank the poisoned bowl, As opward to the tomb I steal,
And Love now nestles in my soul ! That still as death approaches nearer,
Yes, yes, my soul is Cupid's nest, The joys of life are sweeter, dearer ;*
I feel him fluttering in my breast. And had I but an hour to live,

That little hour to bliss I'd give!

ODE VII.' The women tell me every day That all my bloom bas passed away. * Behold,' the pretty wantons cry, • Behold this mirror with a sigh ;


I CARE not for the idle state
Of Persia's king, the rich, the great !8

1 This idea is prettily imitated in the following

Εγω δε τας κoμας μεν epigram by Andreas Naugerius :

Ειτ' εισιν, ειτ' απηλθον

Ουκ' οιδα. Florentes dum forte vagans mea HyeMa per hortos And Longepierre has adduced from Catullus Texit odoratis lilia cana rosis,

what he thinks a similar instance of this simEcce rosas inter latitantem invenit Amorem Et simul annexis floribus implicuit.

plicity of manner : Luctatur primo, et contra nitentibus alis Ipse q:is git, utrum sit, an non sit, id quoque Indomitus tentat solvere vincla puer,

nescit. Mox ubi lacteolas et digras matre papillas Longepierre was a good critic, but perhaps the Vidit et ora ipsos nota movere Deos,

line which he has selected is a specimen of a careImpositosque comæ ambrosios ut sentit odores

lessness not very elegant; at ihe same time, I Quosque legit diti messe beatus Arabs;

confess that none of the Latin poets have ever I (dixit) mea, quære novum tibi mater Amorem, appeared to me so capable of imitating the Imperio sedes bæc erit apta meo.'

graces of Anacreon as Catullus, if he had not As fair Hyella, through the bloomy grove

allowed a depraved imagination to hurry him so

often into vulgar licentiousness. A wreath of many mingled flowerets wove, • Pontanus has a very delicate thought upon Within a rose a sleeping love she found,

the subject of old age: And in the twisted wreaths the baby bound. Awhile he struggled, and impatient tried

Quid rides, Matrona? senem quid temnis amanTo break the rosy bonds the virgin tied;

tem P But when he saw her bosoni's milky swell,

Quisquis amat nullâ est conditione senex. Her features, where the eye of Jove might dwell; Why do you scorn my want of youth, And caught the ambrosial odours of her hair,

And with a smile my brow beholu ? Rich as i he breathings of Arabian air;

Lady, dear! believe this truth, *Oh! mother Venus' (said the raptured child

That he who loves cannot be old. By charms, of more than mortal bloom, beguiled),

3 'The German poet Lessing has imitated this 'Go, seek another boy, thou'st lost thine own,

ode. Vol. i. p. 24.'-Degen. Gail de Edin Hyella's bosom shall be Cupid's throne!'

tionibns. This epigram of Naugerius is imitated by Lodo- the occasion of our poet's returning the money

Baxter conjectures that this was written upon ricu Dolie, in a poem beginning :

to Polycrates, according to the anecdote in Mentre raccoglie hor uno, hor altro fiore

Stobæus. Vicina a un rio di chiare et lucid' onde,

6 There is a fragment of Archilochus in Plu. Lidia, etc. etc.

tarch, ‘De tranquillitate animi,' which our poet

has very closely imitated here: it begins, · Alberti has imitated this ode, in a poem be. Ov Mou ta l'vyew TOV TOXUxpvrov Medet. - Barnes, ginning, Nisa mi dice e Clori

In one of the monkish imitators of Anacreon we

find the same thought : Tirsi, tu se' pur veglio.

Ψυχην εμην ερωτω, * Henry Stephen very justly remarks the ele

Τι σοι θελεις γενεσθαι ; gant negligence of expression in the original here:

Θελεις Γυγε», τα και τα;

I envy not the monarch's throne, Alcmxon once, as legends tell,
Nor wish the treasured gold my own. Was frenzied by the fiends of hell :
But oh! be mine the rosy braid, Orestes too, with naked tread,
The fervour of jay brows to shade; Frantic paced the mountain-head:
Be mine the odours, richly sighing, And why?-a murdered mother's shade
Amidst my hoary tresses flying Before their conscious fancy played ;'
To-day I'll haste to quaff my wine, But I can oe'er a murderer be,
As if to morrow ne'er should shine; The grape alone shall bleed by me;
But if to-morrow comes, why then- Yet can I rave, in wild delight,
I'll haste to quaff my wine again. "I will-I will be mad to-night.
And thus while all our days are bright, The son of Jove, in days of yore,
Nor time has dimmed their bloomy Imbrued his hands in youthful gore,

And brandished with a maniac joy, Let us the festal hours beguile The quiver of the expiring boy : With mantling cup and cordial smile ; And Ajax, with tremendous shield, And shed from every bowl of wine Infuriate scoured the guiltless field. The richest drop on Bacchus' shrine ! But I, whose hands no quiver hold, For death may come with brow un. No weapon but this flask of gold, pleasant,

The trophy of whose frantic hours May come when least we wish him is but a scattered wreath of flowers ; present,

Yet, yet can sing with wild delight, And beckon to the sable shore, • I will-I will be mad to-night! And grimly bid us - drink no more !

I PRAY thee, by the gods above,
Give me the mighty bowl I love,
And let me sing, in wild delight,
'I will — I will be mad to-night!

Tell me how to punish thee,
For the mischief done to me!
Silly swallow ! prating thing,
Shall I clip that wheeling wing?

On account of this idea of perfuming the

Triplicato furore, beard, Comelius de Pauw pronounces the whole

Bacco, Apollo, et Amore, ode to be the spurious production of some lasci.

Ritratti del Cavalier Marino. vious monk, who was garsing bis beard with This is, as Scaliger expresses it, unguents. But he should have known that this

Insanire dulce, was an ancient Eastern custom, which, if we may

Et sapidum furere furorem. believe Savary, still exists. Vous voyez, Monsieur says this traveller), que l'usage antique de from Degen and from Gail's index. that the Ger

3 This ode is addressed to a swallow. I find de parfumer la tête et la barbe, célébré par le prophète Roi, subsiste encore de nos jours.'-lib. i. carm. 5; that Ramler also has initated it,

man poet Weisse has imitated it, Scherz. Lieder, Lettre 12. Savary likewise cites this very ode of Anacreon. Angerianus has not thought the idea Lyr. Blumenlere, lib. iv. p. 335; and some others.

See Gail de Editionibus. inconsistent; he has introduced it in the follow. ing lines:

We are referred by Degen to that stupid book,

the Epistles of Alciphron, tenth epistle, thiri Hæc mihi cura, rosis et çingere tempora myrto, book, where lophon complains to Eraston or

Et curas multo dilapidare mero.
Hæc mihi cura, comas et barbam tingere succo

beirg wakened, by the crowing of a cock, from

his vision of riches. Assyrio et dulces continuere jocos.

4 The loquacity of the swallow was proverThis be my care to twine the rosy wreath, bialized ; thus Nicostratus :

And drench my sorrows in the ample bowl: To let my beard the Assyrian unguent breathe,

Ει το συνεχως και πολλα και ταχεως λαλειν And give a loose to levity of soul !

Ην του φρονειν παρασημον, αι χελιδονες

Ελεγοντ’ αν ήμων σωφρονεστεραι πολυ ? The poet here is in a frenzy of enjoyment, and It is, indeed, 'amabilis insania."

If in prating from morning till night,

A sign of our wisdom there be,
Furor di poesia,

The swallows are wiser by right,
Di lascivia, e di vino,

For they prattle much faster than we.

Or, as Tereus did of old?
(So the fabled tale is told),
Shall I tear that tongue away,
Tongue that uttered such a lay?
How unthinking bast thou been !
Long before the dawn was seen,
When I slumbered in a dream,
(Love was the delicious theme !)
Just when I was nearly blest,
Ah! thy matin broke my rest!

THEY tell how Atys, wild with love,
Roams the mount and haunted grove;
Cybele's name he howls around,
The gloomy blast returns the sound !
Oft too by Claros' hallowed spring,
The votaries of the laurelled king
Quaff the inspiriug magic stream,
And rave in wild prophetic dream.
But frenzied dreams are not for me.
Great Bacchus is my deity!
Full of mirth, and full of him,
While waves of perfume round me

While flavoured bowls are full supplied,
And you sit blushing by my side,
I will be mad and raving too-
Mad, my girl ! with love for you!


• Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee,
What in purchase shall I pay thee
For this little waxen toy,
Image of the Paphian boy ?'
Thus I said, the other day,
To a youth who passed my way.
'Sir' (he answered, and the while
Answered all in Doric style),
* Take it, for a trifle take it;
Think not yet that I could make it;
Pray believe it was not I;
No--it cost me many a sigh,
And I can no longer keep
Little gods who murder sleep!'
• Here, then, here,' I said, with joy,
• Here is silver for the boy :
He shall be my bosom guest,
Idol of my pious breast?'
Little Love! thou now art mine,
Warm me with that torch of thine;
Make me feel as I have felt,
Or thy waxen frame shall melt.
I must burn with warm desire,
Or thou, my boy, in yonder fire !


I WILL, I will; the conflict's past,
And I'll consent to love at last.
Cupid has long, with smiling art,
Invited me to yield my heart;
And I have thought that peace of mind
Should not be for a smile resigned ;
And I've repelled the tender lure,
And hoped my heart should sleep
But slighted in his boasted charms,
The angry infant flew to arms ;
He slung his quiver's golden frame,
He took his bow, his shafts of flame,
And proudly summoned me to yield,
Or meet him on the martial field.
And what did I unthinking do?
I took to arms, undaunted too :5

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? Modern poetry has confirmed the name of bedos, in lonia. The god had an oracle there. Philomel upon the nightingale ; but many very Scaliger hus thus alluded to it in his Anacreunrespectable ancients

assigned this metamorphose tica : to Progne, and made Philomel the swallow, as

Semel ut concitus ostro, Anacreon does here.

Veluti qui Clarias aquas • It is difficult to preserve with any grace the

Ebibere loquaces, narrative simplicity of this ode, and the humour

Quo plus canunt, plura volunt. of the turn with which it concludes. I feel that the translation must appear very vapid, if not Artholoyia, in which the poet assumes Reason as

5 Longepierre has quoted an epigram from the lu licrous, to an English reader.

the armour against Love: I have adopted the accentuation which Elias Andreas gives to Cybele :

| 'Ωπλισμαι προς ερωτα περι στερνοισι λογισμoν,

Ουδε με νικησει, μονος εων προς ένα,
In montibus Cybèlen

Θνατος δ' αθανατω συνελεύσομαι, ην δε βοηθούν
Magno sonans boatu.

Βακχον εχη, τι μονος προς δυ' εγω δυναμαι; • This fountain was in a grove, consecrated to With Reason I cover my breast as a shield, Apollo, and situated between Colophon and Le-1 And fearlessly meet littis love in the field;

Assumed the corslet, shield, and spear, Vain, vain is every outward care,
And, like Pelides, smiled at fear. My foe's within, and triumphs there.
Then (hear it, all you Powers above !)
I fought with Love, I fought with

And now his arrows all were shed- Count me, on the summer trees,
And I had just in tror ded-

Every leaf that courts the breeze ;3
When, heaving an indignant sigh, Count me, on the foamy deep,
To see me thus unwounded fly, Every wave that sinks to sleep;
And having now no other dart, Theu, when you have numbered these
He glanced himself into my heart ! Billowy tides and leafy trees,
My heart-alas the luckless day! Count me all the flames I prove,
Received the god, and died away. All the gentle nymphs I love.
Farewell. farewell, my faithless shield ! First, of pure Athenian maids,
Thy lord at length was forced to yield. Sporting in their olive shades,

Thus fighting his godship, I'll ne'er be dismayed Anacreontic, of which the following is a trans But if Bacchus should ever advance to his aid,

lation : Alas! then, unable to combat the two,

Tell the foliage of the woods, Unfortunate warrior! what should I do?

Tell the billows of the floods, This idea of the irresistibility of Cupid and Bac

Number midnight's starry store,

And the sands that crowd the shore : chus united, is delicately expressed in an Italian poem, which is so very Anacreontic, that I may

Then, iny Bion, thou may'st count be pardoned for introducing it. Indeed, it is an

Of my loves the vast amount ! imitation of Os poet's sixth ode:

I've been loving, all my days,

Many nymphs, in many ways, Lavossi Amore in quel vicino fiume

Virgin, widow, maid, and wite Ove giuro (Pastor) che bevend 'io

I've been doting all my life. Berei le fiamme, anzi l' istesso Dio,

Naiads, Nereids, nymphs of fountains, Ch' or con l'humide piume

Goddesses of groves and mountains, Lascivetto mi scherza al cor intorno.

Pair and sable, great and small, La che sarei s' io lo bevessi un giorno.

Yes, I swear I've loved them all! Bacco, nel tuo liquore ?

Every passion soon was over, Sarei, piu che non sono ebro d'Amore.

I was but a moment's lover; The urchin of the bow and quiver

Oh ! I'm such a roving elf, Was bathing in a neighbouring river,

That the Queen of Love herself, Where, as I drank on yester-eve

Though she practised all her wiles, (Shepherd-youth ! the tale believe),

Rosy blushes, golden smiles, 'Twas not a cooling crystal draught,

All her beauty's proud endeavour 'Twas liquid flame I madly quaffed;

Could not chain my heart for ever! For Love was in the rippling tide,

3 This figure is very frequently made use of in felt him to my bosom glide;

poetry. The amatory writers have exhausted a And now the wily wanton minion

world of imagery by it, to express the infinity of Plays o'er my heart with restless pinion. kisses which they require from the lips of their This was a day of fatal star,

mistresses: in this Catullus led the way. But were it not more fatal far,

-quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox, If, Bacchus, in ihy cup of fire,

Furtivos horninum vident amores;
I found this flattering, young desire ? Tam te basia multa basiare,
Then, then indeed my soul should prove Vesano satis, et super Catullo est :
Much more than ever, drunk with love!

Quæ nec pernumerare curiosi Dryden has parodied this thought in the fol. Possint, nec mala fascinare lingua.-Carm. 7. owing extravagant lines:

As many stellar eyes of light,
I'm all o'er Love;

As through the silent waste of night,
Nay, I am Love; Love shot, and shot so fast,

Gazing upon this world of shade, He shot himself into my breast at last.

Witness some secret youth and maid,

Who, fair as thou, and fond as I, • The poet, in this catalogue of his mistresses, In stolen joys enamoured le! means nothing more than, by a lively hyperbole, So many kisses, ere I sluaber, to tell us that his heart, unfettered by any one Upon those dew-bright lips I'll number: object, was warm with devotion towards the sex So many vermil, honeyed kisses, in general. Cowley is indebted to this ode for Euvy can never count our blisses. ibe hint of his baliad called The Chronicle ; and No tongue shall tell the sum but mine; the learned Menage has imitated it in a Greek No lips shall fascinate but thine!

You may reckon just a score ;
Nay, I'll grant you fifteen more.
In the sweet Corinthian grove,
Where the glowing wantons rove,
Chains of beauties may be found,
Chains by which my heart is bound;
There indeed are girls divine,
Dangerous to a soul like mine ;?
Many bloom in Lesbos' isle ;
Many in Ionia smile;
Rhodes a pretty swarm can boast;
Caria too contains a host.
Sum these all - of brown and fair
You may count two thousand there !
What, you gaze! I pray you, peace !
More I'll find before I cease.
Have I told you all my flames
'Mong the amorous Syrian dames ?
Have I numbered every one
Glowing under Egypt's sun ?
Or the nymphs who, blushing sweet,
Deck the shrine of love in Crete ;
Where the god, with festal play,
Holds eternal holiday ?
Still in clusters, still remain
Gades' warm desiring train ;3
Still there lies a myriad more
On the sable India's shore;
These, and many far removed,
All are loving-all are loved !

Tell me why, my sweetest dove,
Thus your humid pinions move,
Shedding through the air, in showers,
Essence of the balmiest flowers ?
Tell me whither, whence you rove,
Tell me all, my sweetest dove ?
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 maddened many,
But the poet more than any !
Venus, for a hymn of love
Warbled in her votive groves
('Twas, in sooth, a gentle lay),
Gave me to the bard away,
See me now, his faithful minion,
Thus, with softly-gliding pinion,
To his lovely girl I bear
Songs of passion through the air.
Oft he blandly whispers me,
Soou, 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 ;

1 Corinth was very famous for the beauty and • The dove of Anacreon, bearing a letter froma the number of its courtezans. Venus was the the poet to his mistress, is met by a stranger, deity principally worshipped by the people, and with whom this dialogue is imagined. prostitution in her temple was a meritorious act The ancients made use of letter-carrying of religion. Conformable to this was their con- pigeons, when they went any distance from rtant and solemn prayer, that the gods would home, as the most certain means of conveying increase the number of their courtezans.

intelligence back. That tender domestic attach2 • With justice has the poet attributed beauty meut, which attracts this delicate little bird to the women of Greece.' — Degen.

through every danger and difficulty, till it settles 3 The Gaditanian girls were like the Bala- ! in its native nest, affords to the elegant author of dières of India, whose dauces are thus described The Pleasures of Memory a fine and interesting by a French author: 'Les danses sont presque exemplification of his subject. toutes des puntomimes d'amour: le plan, le dessin,

Led ty what chart, transports the timid dove les attitudes, les mesures, les sons, et les cadences

The wreaths of conquest, or the vows of love ? de ces ballets, tout respire cette passion et en exprime les voluptés et les fureurs.'-Histoire See the poem. Daniel Heinsius has a similar du Commerce des Europ. dans les deux Indes.- sentiment, speaking of Dousa, who adopted this Raynal.

method at the siege of Leyden : The music of the Gaditaniar females had all Quo patriæ non tendit amor ? Mandata referre the voluptuous character of their dancing, as Postquam hominem nequiit mittere, misit avem. appears from Martial;

Fuller tells us that, at the siege of Jerusalem, Cantica qui Nili. qui Gaditana susurrat. the Christians intercepted a letter tied to the -Lib. iii. epig. 63. legs of a dove, in which the Persian Emperor

promised assistance to the besieged. See FulLudovico Ariosto had this ode of our bard in ler's Holy War, cap. 24, book i. his miud, when he wrote his poem “ De diversis 5. This passage is invaluable, and I do not amoribus.' See the Anthologiu Ituloruin. think that anything so beautiful or so delicato

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