Seeking in the desert wood ODE XVI.1 THOU, whose soft and rosy hues siimic form and soul infuse ;* Best of painters! come, portray has ever been said. What an idea does it give of of excellence, from the association of beauty with the poetry of the man from whom Venus herself, that flower. Salvini has adopted this reading in the mother of the Graces and the Pleasures, pur-his literal translation: chases a little hymn with one of her favourite doves!-Longepierre. 3 If the Della rosea arte signore. portrait of this beauty be not merely De Pauw objects to the authenticity of this ode, because it makes Anacreon his own pane-ideal, the omission of her name is much to be gyrist; but poets have a licence for praising regretted. Meleager, in an epigram on Anathemselves, which with some indeed may be concreon, mentions the golden Eurypyle' as his sidered as comprised under their general privilege of fiction. This ode and the next may be called companion pictures; they are highly finished, and give us an excellent idea of the taste of the ancients in beauty. Franciscus Junius quotes them in his third book, De Pictura Veterum. This ode has been imitated by Ronsard, Giuliano Goscini, etc. etc. Scaliger alludes to i: thus in his Anacreontica: Olim lepore blando, Litis versibus The Teian bard, of former days, In the dialogue of Caspar Barlaæus, entitled An formosa sit ducenda, the reader will find many curious ideas and descriptions of beauty. I have followed the reading of the Vatican MS. Painting is called 'the rosy art,' either in reference to colouring, or as an indefinite epithet mistress : Βεβληκως χρυσέην χειρας επ' Ευρυπυλην. The ancients have been very enthusiastic in their praises of hair. Apuleius, in the second book of his Milesiacs, says that Venus herself, if she were bald, though surrounded by the Graces and the Loves, could not be pleasing even to her husband Vulcan. To this passage of our poet Selden alluded in a note on the Polyolbion of Drayton, song the second; where, observing that the epithet 'blackhaired' was given by some of the ancients to the goddess Isis, he says: Nor will I swear but that Anacreon (a man very judicious in the provoking motives of wanton love), intending to bestow on his sweet mistress that one of the titles of woman's special ornament, well-haired, thought of this when he gave his painter direction to make her black-haired.' 5 Thus Philostratus, speaking of a picture: 'I admire the dewiness of these roses, and could that their very smell was painted.' Tasso has painted the eyes of Armida, as La Fosse remarks: Bay Qual raggio in onda le scintilla un riso Negli umidi occhi tremulo e lascivo. O'er her nose and cheek be shed ODE XVII.4 AND now, with all thy pencil's truth, Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth! Within her humid, melting eyes That trembles in the azure stream. The mingled expression of dignity and tenderness, which Anacreon requires the painter to in fuse into the eyes of his mistress, is more amply described in the subsequent ode. Both descriptions are so exquisitely touched, that the artist must have been great indeed, if he did not yield in painting to the poet. The 'lip, provoking kisses,' in the original, is a strong and beautiful expression. Achilles atius speaks of lips soft and delicate for kissing.' A grave old commentator, Dionysius Lambinus, in his notes upon Lucretius, tells us, with all the authority of experience, that girls who have large lips kiss infinitely sweeter than others! 'Suavius viros osculantur puellæ labios, quam quæ sunt brevibus labris.' And Eneas Sylvius, in his tedious, uninteresting story of the adulterous loves of Euryalus and Lucretia, where he particularizes the beauties of the heroine (in a very false and laboured style of latinity), describes her lips as exquisitely adapted for biting: Os parvum decensque, labia corallini coloris ad morsum aptissima.'-Epist. 114, lib. i. * Madame Dacier has quoted here two pretty lines of Varro: Sigilla in mento impressa Amoris digitulo In her chin is a delicate dimple, Let his hair, in lapses bright, Steal from Venus bland desire, Now from the sunny apple seek There Softness, bewitchingly simple, Has chosen her innocent nest. 3 This delicate art of description, which leaves imagination to complete the picture, has been seldom adopted in the imitations of this beautiful poem. Ronsard is exceptionably minute; and Politianus, in his charming portrait of a girl, full of rich and exquisite diction, has lifted the veil rather too much. The questo che tu m'intendo' should be always left to fancy. The reader who wishes to acquire an accurate idea of the judgment of the ancients in beauty, will be indulged by consulting Junius, De Picturá Veterum, ninth chapter, third book, where he will find a very curious selection of descriptions and epithets of personal perfections; he compares this ode with a description of Theodoric, king of the Goths, in the second epistle, first book of Sidonius Apollinaris. 5 He here describes the sunny hair, the 'flava coma,' which the ancients so much admired. The Romans gave this colour artificially to their hair. See Stanisl, Kobiensyck de Luxu Romanorum. 6 If the original here, which is particularly beautiful, can admit of any additional value, that value is conferred by Gray's admiration of it. See his Letters to West. Some annotators have quoted on this passage the description of Photis's hair in Apuleius; but nothing can be more distant from the simplicity of our poet's manner than that affectation of richness which distinguisbes the style of Apuleius. 7 Tasso similarly describes the eyes of Clorinda: Then for his lips, that ripely gem- With all that glow of young desire1 Lampeggiar gli occhi, e folgorar gli sguardi Dolci ne l'ira. Her eyes were glowing with a heavenly heat, Emaning fire, and e'en in anger sweet! The poetess Veronica Cambara is more diffuse upon this variety of expression: Ocehi lucenti et belli Come esser puo ch' in un medesmo istante Vi mostrate in un punto, ondi di speme, It was worthy of the delicate imagination of *he Greeks to deify Persuasion, and give her the ips for her throne. We are here reminded of a very interesting fragment of Anacreon, preserved by the scholiast upon Pindar, and supposed to belong to a poem reflecting with some severity on Simonides, who was the first, we are told, that ever made a hireling of his muse: Ουδ' αργυρέη κατ' έλαμψε Πειθώ. | Thy pencil, though divinely bright, We find it likewise in Hamlet Longepierre thinks that the hands of Mercury are selected by Anacreon on account of the graceful gestures which were supposed to characterize the god of eloquence; but Mercury was also the patron of thieves, and may perhaps be praised as a lightfingered deity. I have taken the liberty here of somewhat veiling the original. Madame Dacier, in her translation, has hung out lights (as Sterne would call it) at this passage. It is very much to be regretted that this substitution of asterisks has been so much adopted in the popular interpretations of the Classics; it serves but to bring whatever is exceptionable into notice, claramque facem præferre pudendis.' 5 This is very spirited, but it requires explanation. While the artist is pursuing the portrait of Bathyllus, Anacreon, we must suppose, turns round and sees a picture of Apollo, which was intended for an altar at Samos: he instantly tells the painter to cease his work; that this picture will serve for Bathyllus; and that, when Sunned by the meridian fire, Sheds its tears, and withers there.1 ODE XIX. HERE recline you, gentle maid, he goes to Samos, he may make an Apollo of the portrait of the boy which he had begun. 'Bathyllus (says Madame Dacier) could not be more elegantly praised, and this one passage does him more honour than the statue, however beautiful it might be, which Polycrates raised to him.' 1 There are some beautiful lines, by Angerianus, upon a garland, which I cannot resist quoting here: Ante fores madidæ sic sic pendete corollæ, Mane orto imponet Cælia vos capiti; At quum per niveam cervicem influxerit humor, Hang, humid wreath, the lover's vow; My love shall twine thee round her brow. Then, if upon her bosom bright, Some drops of dew shall fall from thee, Tell her, they are not drops of night, But tears of sorrow shed by me! In the poem of Mr. Sheridan, Uncouth is this moss-covered grotto of stone, there is an idea very singularly coincident with this of Angerianus, in the stanza which begins, Sweet the young, the modest trees, ODE XX. ONE day the Muses twined the hands Come, sit by the shadowy pine By its brink, as the traveller muses, I soothe him to sleep with my lay! 4 What a finish he gives to the picture by the simple exclamation of the original! In these delicate turns he is inimitable; and yet hear what a French translator says on the passage: This conclusion appeared to me too trifling after such a description, and I thought proper to add somewhat to the strength of the original.' By this allegory of the Muses making Cupid the prisoner of Beauty, Anacreon seems to insinuate the softening influence which a cultivation of poetry has over the mind, in making it peculiarly susceptible to the impressions of beauty; though in the following epigram, by the philoso pher Plato, which is found in the third book of Diogenes Laertius, the Muses are made to disavow all the influence of Love: Α Κυπρις Μουσαισι, κορασία των Αφροδίταν And thou, stony grot, in thy arch may'st preserve. The description of this bower is so natural and animated, that we cannot help feeling a degree of coolness and freshness while we read it. Longepierre has quoted from the first book of the Anthologia the following epigram, as somewhat resembling this ode: Έρχει, και κατ' εμαν ίζευ πίτυν, ά το μελιχρον And make your grove the camp of Paphian arms! No,' said the virgins of the tuneful bower, We scorn thine own and all thy urchin's art; Love, wandering through the golden maze Traced every lock with fond delays, His mother comes with many a toy, ODE XXI. OBSERVE when mother earth is dry, And soon he found 'twere vain to fly. And every curlet was a tie, A chain by Beauty twined, 1 Venus thus proclaims the reward for her fugitive child in the first idyl of Moschus : Ο μανντας γέρας έξει, Μισθος τος, το φίλαμα το Κυπριδος, ην αγαγής Ου γύμνον το φίλαμα, τυ δ' ω ξενε και πλεον έξεις. more dear. This 'something more' is the 'quidquid post oscula dulce' of Secundus. After this ode, there follow in the Vatican MS. these extraordinary lines: Ηδύμελης Ανακρέων Ηδύμελης δε Σαπφώ Πινδαρικόν το δε μοι μέλος Συγκέρασας τις έγχεσι Τα τρία ταύτα μοι δοκεί Και Διονυσος εισελθών Και Παφίη παραχροος Και αυτος Έρως και επιειν. These lines, which appear to me to have as little sense as metre, are most probably the interpolation of the transcriber. 2 The commentators who have endeavoured to throw the chains of precision over the spirit of this beautiful trifle, require too much from Anacreontic philosophy. And when the rosy sun appears, Since Nature's holy law is drinking; ODE XXII.3 THE Phrygian rock, that braves the storm, Was once a weeping matron's form; One of the Capilupi has imitated this ode in an epitaph on a drunkard: Dum vixi sine fine bibi, sic imbrifer arcus While life was mine, the little hour I drank as earth imbibes the shower, As ocean quaffs the rivers up, Or flushing sun inhales the sea; And Bacchus was outdone by me! 3 Ogilvie, in his Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients, in remarking upon the Odes of Anacreon, says: In some of his pieces there is exuberance and even wildness of imagination; in that particularly which is addressed to a young girl, where he wishes alternately to be transformed to a mirror, a coat, a stream, a bracelet, and a pair of shoes, for the different purposes which he recites; this is mere sport and wanton ness.' It is the wantonness, however, of a very graceful muse; ludit amabiliter. The compliment of this ode is exquisitely delicate, and so singular for the period in which Anacreon lived, when the scale of love had not yet been graduated into all its little progressive refinements, that if we were inclined to question the authenticity of the poein, we should find a much more plausible argument in the features of modern gallantry which it bears, than in any of those fastidious conjectures upon which some commentators have presumed so far. Degen thinks it spurious, and De Pauw pronounces it to be miserable. Longepierre and Barnes refer us to several imitations of this ode. |