Odes of Anacreon

translated by
Thomas Moore

Contents:

I SAW the smiling bard of pleasure,
The minstrel of the Teian measure;

GIVE me the harp of epic song,
Which Homer's finger thrill'd along;: Stanley's version of this poem.

LISTEN to the Muse's lyre,
Master of the pencil's fire!: Stanley's version of this poem.

VULCAN! hear your glorious task:
I do not from your labours ask: Stanley's version of this poem.; John Oldham's version of this poem.

SCULPTOR, wouldst thou glad my soul,
Grave for me an ample bowl,: Stanley's version of this poem.

AS late I sought the spangled bowers
To cull a wreath of matin flowers,

THE women tell me every day
That all my bloom has past away.: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

I CARE not for the idle state
Of Persia's king, the rich, the great:: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

I PRAY thee, by the gods above,
Give me the mighty bowl I love,: Stanley's version of this poem.

HOW am I to punish thee,
For the wrong thou'st done to me,: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

"TELL me, gentle youth, I pray thee,
What in purchase shall I pay thee: Stanley's version of this poem.

THEY tell how Atys, wild with love,
Roams the mount and haunted grove,: Stanley's version of this poem.

I WILL, I will; the conflict's past,
And I'll consent to love at last.: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

COUNT me, on the summer trees,
Every leaf that courts the breeze,: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

TELL me, why, my sweetest dove,
Thus your humid pinions move,: Stanley's version of this poem.

THOU, whose soft and rosy hues
Mimic form and soul infuse,: Stanley's version of this poem.

AND now with all thy pencil's truth,
Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth!: Stanley's version of this poem.

NOW the star of day is high,
Fly, my girls, in pity fly,: Stanley's version of this poem.

HERE recline you, gentle maid,
Sweet is this embowering shade;: Stanley's version of this poem.

ONE day the Muses twined the hands
Of infant Love with flowery bands;: Stanley's version of this poem.

OBSERVE when mother earth is dry,
She drinks the droppings of the sky;: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

THE Phrygian rock, that braves the storm,
Was once a weeping matron's form;: Stanley's version of this poem.

I OFTEN wish this languid lyre,
This warbler of my soul's desire,: Byron's version of this poem.; Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

TO all that breathe the air of heaven,
Some boon of strength has Nature given.: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

ONCE in each revolving year,
Gentle bird! we find thee here.: Stanley's version of this poem.

THY harp may sing of Troy's alarms,
Or tell the tale of Theban arms;: Stanley's version of this poem.

WE read the flying courser's name
Upon his side, in marks of flame;: Stanley's version of this poem.

AS, by his Lemnian forge's flame,
The husband of the Paphian dame: Stanley's version of this poem.

YES -- loving is a painful thrill,
And not to love more painful still;: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

'TWAS in a mocking dream of night --
I fancied I had wings as light: Stanley's version of this poem.

ARM'D with hyacinthine rod,
(Arms enough for such a god,): Stanley's version of this poem.

STREW me a fragrant bed of leaves,
Where lotus with the myrtle weaves,: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

'TWAS noon of night, when round the pole
The sullen Bear is seen to roll;: Byron's version of this poem.; Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

OH thou, of all creation blest,
Sweet insect that delight'st in rest: Cowley's version of this poem.; Stanley's version of this poem.

CUPID once upon a bed
Of roses laid his weary head;: Stanley's version of this poem.

IF hoarded gold possess'd the power
To lengthen life's too fleeting hour,: Stanley's version of this poem.

'TWAS night, and many a circling bowl
Had deeply warm'd my thirsty soul;: Stanley's version of this poem.

Ode XXXVIII

LET us drain the nectar'd bowl,
Let us raise the song of soul

HOW I love the festive boy,
Tripping through the dance of joy!: Stanley's version of this poem.

I KNOW that Heaven hath sent me here,
To run this mortal life's career;: Stanley's version of this poem.

WHEN Spring adorns the dewy scene,
How sweet to walk the velvet green,

YES, be the glorous revel mine,
Where humour sparkles from the wine.

WHILE our rosy fillets shed
Freshness o'er each fervid head,: Stanley's version of this poem.

BUDS of roses, virgin flowers,
Cull'd from Cupid's balmy bowers,: Stanley's version of this poem.

WITHIN this goblet, rich and deep,
I cradle all my woes to sleep.: Stanley's version of this poem.

BEHOLD, the young, the rosy Spring,
Gives to the breeze her scented wing;: Stanley's version of this poem.

'TIS true, my fading years decline,
Yet can I quaff the brimming wine,: Stanley's version of this poem.

WHEN my thirsty soul I steep,
Every sorrow's lull'd to sleep.: Stanley's version of this poem.

WHEN Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy,
The rosy harbinger of joy,: Stanley's version of this poem.

WHEN wine I quaff, before my eyes
Dreams of poetic glory rise;

FLY not thus my brow of snow,
Lovely wanton! fly not so.: Stanley's version of this poem.