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ODE VI.

THE PARTY OF PLEASURE.

WHILE roses round our temples twine, 'We'll gaily quaff the sparkling wine: And, lo! the love-alluring fair Her thyrsus brandishes in air, With clust'ring ivy wreath'd around Whose branches yield a rustling sound; With graceful ease her steps she suits To notes of soft Ionian lutes.

A youth, whose hair luxuriant flows

In curls, with breath ambrosial blows

The well-pair'd pipes, and, sweetly clear,
Pours melting music on the ear.
Here Cupid too with golden hair,
And Bacchus ever young and fair,

10

Ode VI.-This ode, in the original, bears the same title as the former, Es podov, On the Rose. But, as it is universally agreed to be a mistake of the copyists, the editors of Anacreon have given it various appellations. Barnes calls it Kwas, which he translates Festivitas amatoria, The Festival of Love. Dr. Trapp entitles it μTION, Convivium, The Banquet. Madame Dacier would have it called The Masquerade. But I agree with Longepierre, who thinks it ought to be styled The Party of Pleasure.

4. Her thyrsus brandishes in air,] The thyrsus was a spear encircled with wreaths of ivy, and sometimes vine-leaves. It was used as a weapon by those who attended the revels of Bacchus.

With Cytherea, who inspires Delightful thoughts and warm desires, Gay-smiling join the festive train, And make an old man young again.

ODE VII.

THE POWER OF LOVE.

LOVE, waving awful in his hand His hyacinth-encircled wand, Forc'd me, averse, with him to run; In vain I strove the task to shun. Swift o'er the plain our course we ply'd, Thro' foaming floods, o'er forests wide, O'er hills where rocks impending hung, Till me, alas! a serpent stung: Sore heav'd my heart with dire dismay, -My spirits sunk-I dy'd awayPleas'd Cupid caught my trembling hand, My face with his soft pinions fann'd, And cry'd, "Since now my pow'r you prove, Dare you still boast, you will not love?'

ODE VIII.

THE DREAM.

As on a purple bed supine,
Rapt in the pleasing joys of wine,
I lull'd my weary limbs to rest,
Methought, with nymphs supremely blest,

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Ode VII.-2. His hyacinth-encircled wand, Ma

10. With breath ambrosial blows] Mr. Longepierre quotes a most beautiful epigram from the seventh book of the Anthologia, near the end, simi-dame Dacier and Barnes thought, avowy might lar to this passage; which, I think, cannot have justice done it in an English translation:

Κέρη τις μ' έφίλησε ποθέσπερα χείλεσιν υγροις· Νικίας την το φιλημα το γαρ σομα νεκίας ο επτει. Νυν μεθυω το φιλημα, πολυν τον ερωτα πεπωκως. Phyllis the gay, in robe of beauty drest, Late on my lips a humid kiss imprest; The kiss was nectar which the fair bestow'd, For in her am'rous breath a gale of nectar flow'd. What love, ye gods! what raptures in her kiss! My soul was drunk with ecstacy of bliss.

12. Pours melting music on the ear.] Пgox uv Mylar que, pouring a liquid sound. The expression is very delicate. Horace has something like it, ode 24. b. 1.

Cui liquidam Pater vocem cum cithara dedit. Who shar'st from Jove the melting voice and lyre. Duncombe.

14. Bacchus ever young and fair,] The ancient poets always represented Bacchus young and beautiful. So Ovid Metam. b. 4. v. 17.

--Tibi enim inconsumpta juventas, Tu puer æternus, tu formosissimus alto Conspiceris cœlo: tibi, cum sine cornibus adstas, Virgineum caput est

To thee eternity of youth is giv'n;
Unrival'd in thy bloom thou shin'st in Heav'n:
Conceal thy horns, and ev'ry charming grace
Of virgin beauty brightens in thy face.

signify the colour of the wand or rod; but as the hyacinth is no where described to be of any determined colour, the interpretation will not hold good. The thought is poetical, and worthy of Anacreon, to suppose Cupid's wand adorned with little wreaths of that delicate flower tied round it. Or perhaps, by vaxvein past the poet ineant only a single hyacinth; for gado; may signify the stalk or stem of a flower: and then the moral of this charming ode will latently inculcate the irresistible force of Love, in whose hands a flower is as powerful as his bow, and arrows that are tipt with fire.

A late right reverend author, much admired for the elegance of his writings, seems to have had an eye to this ode when he composed the following lines on a fan:

Flavia the least and slightest toy
Can with resistless art employ:

This fan, in meaner hands, would prove

An engine of small force in love;
Yet she, with graceful air and mien,
Not to be told, or safely seen,

Directs its wanton motions so,

That it wounds more than Cupid's bow;
Gives coolness to the matchless dame,
To ev'ry other breast a flame.

8. Till me, alas! a serpent stung:] His being stung by a serpent, as Madame Dacier observes, was to punish his insensibility, and to show that Love, if he would submit to his dominion, would ake him under his protection.

A beauteous band, I urg'd the chase,
Contending in the rapid race;
While fairest youths, with envy stung,

Tell me whence your snowy plumes
Breathe such fragrance of perfumes?
And what master you obey,
Gentle bird of Venus, say!"

Fair as Lyæus ever young,

With jealous leer, and bitter jest,
Their keen malevolence exprest.
Intent on love, I strive to greet

The gamesome girls with kisses sweet,
And, as on pleasure's brink I seem,
Wake, and, behold! 'tis all a dream.
Vex'd to be thus alone in bed,
My visionary charmers fled,

To dream once more I close my eyes;
Again, ye soft illusions, rise!

ODE IX.

THE DOVE.

"TELL me, dear, delightful dove,

Emblematic bird of love,

On your wavering wings descending,

Whence you come, and whither tending?

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To Bathyllus, beauteous boy,
Men's delight, and maidens' joy.

For a sonnet terse and trim,
Which the poets call a hymn,
Venus, in her sweet regard,
Sold me to the gentle bard:
Happy in his easy sway,
All his mandates I obey;
Often through the fields of air
Song or billet-doux I bear.
'If you serve me well,' says he,
'I will shortly make you free.'
He may free me, if he will,

Yet I'll stay and serve him still:

20

Longepierre has a quotation from Ælian, book 6. chap. 7. which proves that the crow, Kogwin, was sometimes employed in this office. The passage

Ode VIII.-S. Fair as Lyæus ever young,] Ly-may be thus translated: "In Egypt, near the

æus was a name given to Bacchus. It is derived from the word way to loose or free, because wine frees the mind from anxieties.

15. Vex'd to be thus alone in bed,

My visionary charmers fled, &c.] Madame Dacier commends the delicacy and beauty of this ode, though in her translation all the spirit evaporates: the two last lines,

lake Myris, the natives show the monument of a crow, of which they give the following account: That it was brought up by one of their kings called Marrhes, whose epistles it carried, wheresoever he pleased, with greater expedition than the swiftest of his messengers: that, when he gave his orders, it immediately understood which way to direct its flight, through what country to pass, and where to stop. To recompense these services, when it died, Marrhes honoured it with a monument and an epitaph."

6. Breathe such fragrance of perfumes?] The Greeks perfumed their birds, as we perfume our lap-dogs. Madame Dacier.

Μεμονωμένος δ ̓ ὁ τλημων Παλιν ηθελον καθεύδειν. Thus miserably left alone, I wish'd to sleep again; she has rendered thus: Etant donc tout triste de me voir ainsi demeure seul, je ne trouvai point de meilleure consolation, que de me remettre à dormir. There are some beautiful lines in Ovid's Epistle of Sappho to Phaon, as Mr. Pope has taught her to speak, which will elucidate this pas-notice of this passion: e of Anacreon.

sage

O night more pleasing than the brightest day,
When fancy gives what absence takes away,
And drest in all its visionary charins,
Restores my fair deserter to my arms!
But when with day the sweet delusions fly,
And all things wake to life and joy, but I,
As if once more forsaken, I complain,
And close my eyes, to dream of you again.

Ode IX.-Faber says of this ode, that it does not seem to be the work of one man only, but that the Graces joined in concert with the Muses to finish this beautiful little piece.

12. To Bathyllus whom he loves,] Bathyllus was a young Samian of great beauty, and admired by Anacreon. See ode 29th. Horace has taken

Non aliter Samio dicunt arsisse Bathyllo

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This youth was also a favourite of Polycrates, who erected a statue to him that represented Apollo playing upon the lyre.

15, 16. For a sonnet terse and trim,

Which the poets call a hymn, &c.] The poet could not pay himself a more delicate compliment, than by saying, that Venus, the mo

To understand it properly we must remember, that it was a custom among the ancients, when they undertook long journeys, and were desirous of sending back any news with uncommon expe-ther of the Graces, was glad to purchase a little dition, to take tame pigeons along with them, When they thought proper to write to their friends, they let one of these birds loose, with letters fastened to its neck: the bird, once released, would never cease its flight till it arrived at its nest and young ones. The same custom still obtains among the Turks, and in several castern countries.

hymn of his composing at the price of one of her favourite doves. This passage is a proof, that Anacreon wrote hymns in honour of the gods; which are all lost, except, perhaps, part of the 50th and 52d odes to Bacchus, the 58th to Cupid, the 60th to Diana, and the 64th to Apollo. The 62d ode is also an hymencal hymn.

For what comfort can I know
On the mountain's barren brow?
Or in deserts left alone,
There to murmur and to moan?
Or in melancholy wood,
Pecking berries, nauseous food!
Now I eat delicious bread,
By my liberal master fed;.
Now I drink, of his own bowl,
Rosy wine that cheers my soul;

Sometimes dance, and sometimes play,
Ever easy, ever gay;

Or my fragrant pinions spread,
Hovering o'er my master's head:
When my limbs begin to tire,
Then I perch upon his lyre;
Soothing sounds my eyelids close,
Sweetly lulling my repose.

"Now I've told you all I know,
Friend, adieu-'tis time to go;
You my speed so long delay,
I have chatter'd like a jay."

ODE X.

CUPID IN WAX.

A RUSTIC brought, of curious mould, A waxen Cupid to be sold: "What price," I cry'd, " ingenuous say, For this small image shall I pay?” "Small is the price," reply'd the clown, "Take it, e'en take it at your own: To tell you all without a lie, I make no images, not I; But dare not in my mansion trust This patron of unbounded lust." "If so, then for this little coin," Said I," the deity is mine." And now, great god, my breast inspire, There kindle all thy gentle fire: But, if thou fail'st to favour me,

I swear I'll make a fire of thee.

35. Now I drink, of his own bowl,

Rosy wine, &c.]

30

40

ODE XI.

BY ANOTHER HAND.

ON HIMSELF.

OFT, with wanton smiles and jeers,
Women tell me, I'm in years;

I, the mirror when I view,
Find, alas! they tell me true;
Find my wrinkled forehead bare,
And regret my falling hair;

serves, that it was usual for the ancient heathens
to treat the images of their gods well or ill, just
as they fancied they had been used by them, The
modern Indians chastise their idols with scourges,
whenever any calamity befalls them. There is a
passage in the seventh Idyllium of Theocritus si-
milar to this of our poet, where a person, after
haying made his supplication to the god Pan,
pleasantly enough threatens him:

Ει δ' άλλως γευσαις, κατα μεν χρόα
Δακνόμενος ανασαίο, κ. τ. λ.

παντ'

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But may'st thou, if thou dar'st my boon deny,
Torn by fell claws on beds of nettles lie;
All the cold winter freeze beneath the pole,
Where Heber's waves down Edon's mountains roll;
And in the scorching heats of summer glow,
Where under Blemyan rocks Nile's boiling waters
flow.

Ode XI.-That natural facility of thought, and that sweet simplicity of expression, which are so 10 deservedly admired in the writings of Anacreon, abound in the original of this beautiful ode. Horace gives us his true character, when he tells us he wrote, non elaboratum ad pedem, in unlaboured verse; verse that flows with so much ease, that it seems to have cost him no care or trouble. He played upon his lyre, aud the numbers came; therefore he says of him in another place:

The dove praises the liberality of his master for admitting him to drink of the same wine as himself; which was an indulgence the ancients never allowed to any but their favourites. Thus Homer introdtices Achilles entertaining Ajax, Ulysses, and Phoenix, Iliad 9. ver. 202.

With that the chiefs beneath his roof he led,
And plac'd in seats with purple carpets spread.
Then thus" Patroclus, crown a larger bowl,
Mix purer wine, and open every soul.
Of all the warriors yonder host can send,
Thy friend most honours these, and these thy
Pope.
friend."

Ode X.-The commentators observe, that Anacreon makes this young countryman speak in the Doric dialect, which was the most rustic, to ridicule the unpoliteness of a person who could be so insensible of the charms of Love, as to wish to part with his images.

11. If so, then for this little coin,] In the Greek, the price offered is a drachm, an Attic coin, value about sevenpence halfpenny English.

16. I swear I'll make a fire of thee.] Barnes ob

Nec, si quid olim lusit Anacreon, Delevit ætas

Hor. L. 4. Od. 9.

-and blithe Anacreon's sportive lay Still lives, in spite of time's destructive sway. Duncombe.

We have an imitation of this ode in an epigram of Palladas in the 47th chapter of the 2d book of the Anthologia.

Γηραλέον με γυναίκες αποσκοπίεσι, λέγονίες

Εις το κατοπΐρον όραν λειψανον ἡλικίης. Αλλ' εγω ει λευκος φορέω τριχας, είτε μελαίνας, Ουκ αλέγω, βιοτε προς τέλος ερχομενος Ευοδμοις δε μυροισι, και ευπελαλοις σεφάνοισι, Και βρομιῳ πάνω φροντίδας αργαλέας. To me the wanton girls insulting say, "Here in this glass thy fading bloom survey :" Just on the verge of life, 'tis equal quite, Whether my locks are black, or silver-white; Roses around my fragrant brows I'll twine, And dissipate anxieties in wine.

6. And regret my falling hair;] The hair was always esteemed by the ancients the principal ornament of beauty. Apuleius has this remark

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able passage in the second book of his Milesiacs: "Even Venus herself, if she was destitute of hair, though surrounded by the Graces and Loves, would not have charms to please her own husband Vulcan." Longepierre quotes a passage from Petronius, where Eumolpus calls the hair the chief grace of beauty:

Quod summum formæ decus, cecidere capilli,

Vernantesque comas tristis abegit hyems.
Nunc umbrâ nudata suâ jam tempora mærent,
Areaque attritis nidet adusta pilis.

O fallax natura deûm! quæ prima dedisti
Ætati nostræ gaudia, prima rapis.
Infelix modo crinibus nitebas
Phoebo pulchrior, & sorore Phobi:
At nunc lævior ære, vel rotundo
Horti tubere, quod creavit unda,
Ridentes fugis & times puellas.
Ut mortem citius venire credas,
Scito jam capitis perîsse partem.

Fall'n is thy hair, for woeful winter hoar

Has stol'n thy bloom, and beauty is no more;

Thy temples mourn their shady honours shorn,

Parch'd like the fallow, destitute of corn.

Fallacious gods! whose blessings can betray;
What first ye give us, first ye take away.
Thou, late exulting in thy golden hair,
As bright as Phoebus, or as Cynthia fair,
Now view'st, alas! thy forehead smooth and plain
As the round fungus, daughter of the rain;
Smooth as the surface of well-polish'd brass,
And fly'st with fear each laughter-loving lass.
Death hastes amain; thy wretched fate deplore;
Fall'n is thy hair, and beauty is no more.

Ode XII.-6. Or, like stern Tereus, &c.] The poet very judiciously endeavours to terrify the swallow with the mention of Tereus, whose palace, as the ancients have remarked, was carefully avoided by those birds. Pliny says, Arx regum Thraciæ, a Terei nefasto crimine invisa hirundinibus. See also Solinus. From this passage of Anacreon it should seem, that Philomela was changed into a swallow, and not Progne, as Ovid and others have asserted.

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10. Thou wak'st me from a golden dream, And from my arms hast snatch'd away Phyllis the fair, the young, the gay.] Madame Dacier says, that this passage, and another in the eighth ode

Intent on love, I strive to greet
The gamesoine girls with kisses sweet,
And, as on pleasure's brink I seem,
Wake, and, behold! 'tis all a dream.

undoubtedly furnished Horace with that beautiful sentiment in the first ode of the fourth book:

Nocturnis te ego somniis

Jam captum teneo; jam volucrem sequor
Te per gramina Martii

Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles.

Which Mr. Pope has most admirably imitated:
Thee, dress'd in fancy's airy beain,
Absent I follow through th' extended dream;
Now, now I seize, 1 clasp thy charins,
And now you burst (ah cruel!) from my arms;
And swiftly shoot along the Mall,
Or softly glide by the Canal,

Now shorn by Cynthia's silver ray,
And now on rolling waters snatch'd away.

Argentarius imitates this passage in an epigram, in the first book of the Anthologia, which begins,

Όρνι, τι μοι φίλον ὑ πριν αφήρπασας; ἡδυ δε Πύρξης Είδωλον κοίτης ᾤχετ' αποπλάμενον.

Invidious swallow, with thy horrid scream

Why hast thou wak'd me from so sweet a dream? Stunn'd by thy noise fair Pyrrha, like the wind, Flew from my arms, just yielding to be kind.

Agathias has also imitated it in an epigram, in the seventh book of the Anthologia.

Πάσαν εγω την νύκία κινυρομαι' ευτε δ' επέλθη
Όρθρος, ελίνουσαι μικρά χαριζόμενος.
Αμφιπεριτρυζωσι χελιδονις ες δε με δακρυ

Βαλλυσι, γλυκερόν και με παρωσάμεναι,
Ω φθονεραι παυσασθε λαλητρίδες" κ γαρ εγωγε
Την φιλομήλειαν γλώσσαν απεθρισαμήν.
Αλλ' Ιτυλον κλαίοτε κατ' ερέα, και γνούσε
Εις αίπος, κρανάην αυλιν εφεζόμεναι,
Βαιον ίνα κνωσσοιμεν ίσως
de τις ήξει ονειρος
Ος με Ροδανθείοις πήχεσιν αμφιβαλοι.

All night I sigh, with cares of love opprest:
And when the morn indulges balmy rest,
These twittering birds their noisy matins keep,
Recal my sorrows, and prevent my sleep.
Cease, envious birds, your plaintive tales to tell,
I ravish'd not the tongue of Philomel.
In deserts wild, or on some mountain's brow,
Pay all the tributary grief you owe
To Itys, in an elegy of woe.
Me leave to sleep: in visionary charms [arms.
Some dream perhaps may bring Rodanthe to my

ODE XIII.

ON ATYS.

As o'er the mountains, o'er the plains,
Unmanly Atys, in loud strains
Great Cybele invoking, mourn'd,
His love to sudden madness turn'd.

Some to the Clarian fountain throng
Of laurel'd Phoebus, god of song,
And with prophetic draughts inspir'd,
Enraptur'd rave, with frenzy fir'd;
1 too, inspir'd with generous wine,
While round me breathe perfumes divine, 10
And with fair Chloe blest, will prove
The sweetest madness-wine and love.

ODE XIV.

LOVE IRRESISTIBLE.

YES, I yield-thy sovereign sway,
Mighty Cupid, I'll obey.

Ode XIII.-2. Umanly Atys,] A young Phry gian of great beauty, beloved by Cybele the mother of the gods, who made him her priest, on condition that he should live chaste: but he broke his vow, and, as a punishment, she afflicted him with madness; in the transports of which he deprived himself of the distinction of his sex, and would have killed himself, had not Cybele, moved with compassion, transformed him into a pinetree. 5. Some to the Clarian fountain throng] Claros was a city of Ionia near Colophon, rendered famous for a fountain consecrated to Apollo, who from thence was called Clarius. Tacitus gives an account of it in the second book of his Annals, where, speaking of Germanicus, he says, Appellitque Colophona, ut Clarii Apollinis oraculo ute

retur.

Late with soft persuasive art
Love essay'd to win my heart:
I, inflam'd with rebel pride,
His omnipotence defy'd——————
With revengeful fury stung,
Straight his bow he bent, he strung,
Snatch'd an arrow wing'd for flight,
And provok'd me to the fight:

I, disdaining base retreat,
Clad in radiant arms complete,
Like Achilles, boldly wield
Glittering spear, and ample shield;
Thus equipt, resolve to prove
The terrific power of Love.

From his bow the arrows sped;
I, alas! inglorious fled-

When the quiver at his side
Feather'd shafts no more supply'd,

Love, transform'd into a dart,

Pierc'd, like lightning, thro' my heart,

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the irresistible nature of love. In this little piece Anacreon discovers a wonderful delicacy of invention: nothing can be imagined more entertaining than this combat, the preparation for it, the issue of it, and that natural and admirable reflection with which it concludes.

12. Clad in radiant arms complete, &c.] Anacreon arms himself with a spear and shield, to contend with Love. In an ancient epigram of the Anthologia, book 7, we have an account of a combatant, who put on the breast-plate of Reason, to withstand the attacks of this dangerous enemy. Ωπλισμαι προς ερωΐα περί σέρνοισι λογισμόν,

Ουδέ με νικησει, μένος των προς ένα.
Θνατος δ' αθανατω συνελευσομαι' ην δε βοηθον
Βακχον έχη, τι μονος προς δυ εγω δυναμαι;
With Love I war, and Reason is my shield,
match'd thus equally, will yield:
If Bacchus joins his aid, too great the odds;
One mortal cannot combat two such gods.
19, 20. When the quiver at his side

ever,

Feather'd shafts no more supply'd,]
The author of an epigram, in the seventh book of
the Anthologia, complains, in like manner, that
Love had exhausted his quiver by shooting at him.
Μηκετι τις πτήξειε Ποθεί βελός" ιοδοχην γας

Nor Non femina illic, ut apud Delphos; sed certis è familiis, & ferme Mileto accersitus sacerdos, numerum modo consultantium & nomina audit: tum in specum degressus, haustâ fontis arcani aquâ, ignarus plerumque literarum & carminum, edit responsa versibus compositis super "He landed at rebus quas quis mente concepit. Colophon, to consult the oracle of Apollo at Claros. The person that delivers the oracles there is not a woman, as at Delphos, but a man selected out of certain families, and frequently from Miletus. This priest only inquires the number and names of those that consult the deity. After that, having entered his grotto, and drank of the mysterious water, he answers the question of his inquirers in verse, though he is generally illiterate, and unacquainted with the Muses."

Εις εμε λάβρος Ερως εξεκένωσεν όλην.

No more let Cupid's shafts the world appall,
For in my bosom he has lodg'd them all.
21. Love, transform'd into a dart,

Pierc'd, like lightning, thro' my heart.] This thought is very beautiful and ingenious. It 6. Of laurel'd Phoebus,] The Greek is dapon-is taken from an ancient piece of gallantry, which po, laurel-wearing Phoebus; because when Daphne escaped his pursuit by being changed into a laurel, he consecrated that tree to himself.

Ovid. Metamorph.

Cui Deus, At quoniam conjux mea non potes esse
Arbor eris certeo, dixit, mea; semper habebunt
Te coma, te citheræ, te nostræ, Laure, pharetræ.
To whom the god-" Because thou canst not be
My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree:
Be thou the prize of honour and renown,
The deathless poet and the poem crown."

Dryden.
Ode XIV. The subject of this ode is to show

ought not to be passed over in silence. The he-
roes of antiquity, when in any desperate engage-
ment they found their darts spent, their strength
exhausted, and saw no prospect of surviving long,
would collect all their spirits and strength, and
rush headlong with amazing impetuosity upon
their enemies, that even in death the weight of
their bodies, thus violently agitated, might bear
down their adversaries. Examples of this kind of
heroism are frequent in Lucan. Book 3d, speak-
ing of a brave veteran:

-Tum vulnere multo
Effugientem animam lapsos collegit in artus
Membraque contendit toto, quicunque manebat,

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