Thee, darling gem, the Graces wear But, oh! what joy, when bless'd we rove O! thou art still the poet's theme, And thee a welcome guest we deem, 1 The editor of an ingenious little edition of this author observes: Did Anacreon anticipate the beautiful fable of the rose Sultana of the Nightingale,' so justly a favorite with later eastern poets? All the country is now full of nightingales, whose amours with roses is an Arabian fable, as well known here as any part of Ovid amongst us.'-Lady Montague's Letters. For well may maids of Helle deem That this can be no earthly flower, Nor droops, though Spring refuse her shower, A bird unseen, but not remote: But soft as harp that Houri strings It were the bulbul; but his throat, Though mournful, pours not such a strain : For they who listen cannot leave The spot, but linger there and grieve As if they loved in vain !-Bride of Abydos. The reader will, I trust, pardon the length of this extract, on account of its enchanting beauty. To grace our feasts and deck our hair, With which the crimson veil is drawn. And roseate tints are ever seen To bloom the cheeks of beauty's queen. Its power to soothe the pangs of pain1 And e'en when life and hope is fled Its grateful smell the rose retains, But, lyrist, let it next be sung From whence this precious treasure sprung— Fair Venus rose to upper day; When, fearful to the powers above, From heaven the bless'd immortals threw ; Awhile it trembled on the thorn, And then the lovely rose was born. 1 In Anacreon's time roses were frequently used medi cinally. 2 And redolent of joy and youth To breathe a second spring. Gray's ode to Eton College. To Bacchus they the flower assign, ODE LIV.-ON HIMSELF. WHILST I view the youthful throng, To the merry dance I fly, ODE LV.-THE LOVER'S MARK. THE Courser bears a brand of fire, 1 The tiara worn by the ancient Parthians resembled the modern turban. Addison has translated from Dionysius the following description of the situation and manners of this ancient people : Beyond the Caspian straits those realms extend, And I by instinct sure can tell ODE LVI.-ON HIS OLD AGE.2 ALAS! my youth, my joys have fled, Henceforth, unhappy! doom'd to know O! how my soul with horror shrinks3 Versed only in the rougher arts of war, Till warlike sweat has earn'd the short repast. 1 The eyes, the windows of the soul, are notorious tell-tales of what is passing within. 2 It is supposed by many that the five following odes were not written by Anacreon; but as Barnes admits them into his edition, and they are given in most other translations, it was thought proper to insert them here. 3 Let the reader contrast this exclamation of the despairing heathen philosopher with the exulting language of Paul the aged' when ready to be offered, and the time of his departure at hand. Of Pluto's dark and dreary cave, When Death's cold hand has closed these eyes, In darkness and in dust must I, ODE LVII.-THAT MODERATION ENHANCES ENJOYMENT. HASTE; haste thee, boy, and bring the bowl, To quench this fever of the soul; The copious stream with skill combine, Add ten parts water, five of wine ;1 O cease, my friends, for shame, give o’er 1 Hesiod, with all the minuteness of narrative old age,' gives many directions to be observed in the summer season. Among the rest, in book ii., he thus advises us : With Byblian wine the rural feast be crown'd, Three parts of water, let the bowl go round.-Cooke. 2 The Scythians were particularly remarkable for their intemperance in drinking, and for quarrelling in their cups. |