(The 119th and 124th in Barnes.)
HITHER, gentle Muse of mine,
Come and teach thy votary old,
Many a golden hymn divine,
For the nymph with vest of gold.
Pretty nymph, of tender age,
Fair thy silky locks unfold;
Listen to a hoary sage,
Sweetest maid with vest of gold!
WOULD that I were a tuneful lyre,
Of burnish'd ivory fair;
Which, in the Dionysian choir,
Some blooming boy should bear!
Would that I were a golden vase,
And then some nymph should hold My spotless frame, with blushing grace, Herself as pure as gold!
ODE LXXV.
(The 173d in Barnes).
WHEN Cupid sees my beard of snow,
Which blanching Time has taught to flow,
Upon his wing of golden light
He passes with an eaglet's flight,
And flitting on he seems to say,
'Fare-thee-well, thou'st had thy day!"
ODE LXXVI.
(The 125th in Barnes.)
CUPID, whose lamp has lent the ray,
Which lightens our meandering way
Cupid, within my bosom stealing,
Excites a strange and mingled feeling,
Which pleases, though severely teasing,
And teases, though divinely pleasing!
ODE LXXVII.
(The 69th in Barnes.)
LET me resign a wretched breath,
Since now remains to me
No other balm than kindly death
To soothe my misery!
ODE LXXVIII.
(The 72d in Barnes.)
I KNOW thou lov'st a brimming measure,
And art a kindly, cordial host;
But let me fill and drink at pleasure,
Thus I enjoy the goblet most.
ODE LXXIX.
(The 95th in Barnes.)
I FEAR that love disturbs my rest,
Yet feel not love's impassion'd care;
I think there's.madness in my breast,
Yet cannot find that madness there
ODE LXXX.
(The 123d in Barnes.)
FROM dread Leucadia's frowning steep, I'll plunge into the whitening deep: And there I'll float to waves resign'd, For love intoxicates my mind!
ODE LXXXI.
MIX me, child, a cup divine,
Crystal water, ruby wine:
Weave the frontlet, richly flushing
O'er my wintry temples blushing.
Mix the brimmer-Love and I
Shall no more the gauntlet try
Here-upon this holy bowl.
I surrender all my soul !
AN ODE BY THE TRANSLATOR.
ΕΠΙ ροδίνοις ταπησί,
Τηῖος ποτ ̓ ὁ μελιστης
Ιλαρος γελων εκείτο,
Μεθύων τε και λυρίζων
Αμφι αυτον οι δ' ερωτες
Απαλοι συνεχόρευσαν
Ο βέλη τα της Κυθήρης
Εποιεί, ψυχης οιστους"
Ο δε λευκα πορφυροίσι
Κρινα συν ρόδοισι πλεξας,
Εφίλει στεφων γεροντα
Η δε θεαων ανασσα,
ΣΟΦΙΗ ποτ' εξ' Ολυμπον
Εσορωσ' Ανακρέοντα,
Εσορωσα τους ερωτας,
Υπομειδίασσας ειπε
Σοφε, δ ̓ ὡς Ανακρέοντα
Τον σοφωτατον απαντων,
Καλεουσιν οι σοφισται,
Τι, γερων, τεον βίον μεν
Τοις ερωσι, τω Λυαίω,
Κ' ουκ εμοι κρατειν έδωκας;
Τι φιλημα της Κυθήρης,
Τι κυπελλα του Λυαίου,
Αιει γ' ετρύφησας άδων,
διδασκών,
Ουκ εμους νομους
Ουκ εμον λαχων άωτον;
̔Ο δε Τηίος μελιστης
Μητε δυσχεραινε, φησί,
Ότι, θεα, σου γ' ανευ μεν,
Ο σοφωτατος απαντων
Παρα των σοφων καλούμαι
Φιλέω, πιω, λυρίζω,
Μετα των καλων γυναικων
Αφελως δε τερπνα παιζω,
Ως λυρη γαρ, εμον ητος
Αναπνει μόνους έρωτας"
Ωδε βιοτου γαληνην
Φίλεων μαλιστα παντων,
Οι σοφός μελωδος ειμι ;
Τις σοφώτερος μεν εστί ;
EPIGRAMS OF THE ANTHOLOGIA.
[AMONG the Epigrams of the Anthologia, there are some panegyrics on Anacreon, which I had translated, and originally intended as a kind of Coronis to the work; but I found, upon consideration, that they wanted variety; a frequent recurrence of the same thought, within the limits of an epitaph, to which they are confined, would render a collection of them rather uninteresting. I shall take the liberty, however, of subjoining a few, that I may not appear to have totally neglected those elegant tributes to the reputation of Anacreon. The four epigrams which I give are imputed to Antipater Sidonius. They are rendered, perhaps, with too much freedom; but, designing a translation of all that are on the subject, I Imagined it was necessary to enliven their uniformity by sometimes indulging in the liberties of paraphrase.]
Αντιπατρου Σιδωνίου, εις Ανακρέοντα.
Θαλλοι τετρακορυμβος, Ανακρεον, αμφι σε κισσος
άβρα σε λειμώνων πορφυρέων πεταλα·
αναθλίβοιντο γαλακτος,
ευώδες δ' απο γης ήδυ χέοιτο μεθυ,
αφρα κε τοι σποδιη τε και οστεα τερψιν αρητεί
ει δς τις φθιμενοις χρίμπτεται ευφρόσυνα,
ω το φίλον στερξας, φιλε, βαρβιτον, ω συν αοιδα
παντα διάπλωσας και συν ερωτι βιον.
AROUND the tomb, oh bard divine!
Where soft thy hallow'd brow reposes
Long may the deathless ivy twine,
And summer pour her waste of roses!
And many a fount shall there distil,
And many a rill refresh the flowers;
But wine shall gush in every rill,
And every fount be milky showers.
Thus, shade of him, whom Nature taught
To tune his lyre and soul to pleasure,
Who gave to love his warmest thought,
Who gave to love his fondest measure!
Thus, after death, if spirits feel,
Thou may'st, from odours round thee streaming
A pulse of past enjoyment steal,
And live again in blissful dreaming!
Του αυτού, εις τον αυτον.
Τύμβος Ανακρείοντος. ὁ Τηϊος ενθαδε κυκνος
Ενδει, χἡ παιδων ζωρότατη μαινη.
Ακμην λειριοεντι μελίζεται αμφι Βαθύλλω
Ίμερα και κισσου λευκος οδωδε λιθος.
Ουδ' Αΐδης σοι ερωτας απέσβεσεν εν δ' Αχέροντος,
Ων, ὅλος ωδινεις Κυπριδι θερμότερη.
HERE sleeps Anacreon, in this ivied shade;
Here, mute in death, the Teian swan is laid.
And yet, oh Bard! thou art not mute in death,
Still, still we catch thy lyre's delicious breath ;
And still thy songs of soft Bathylla bloom,
Green as the ivy round the mouldering tomb!
Nor yet has death obscur'd thy fire of love,
Still, still it lights thee thro' the Elysian grove ;
And dreams are thine, that bless th' elect alone,
And Venus calls thee ev'n in death her own!
Του αυτού, εις του αυτού.
Ξεινε, τάφον παρα λιτον Ανακρείοντος αμείβων,
Ει τι τοι εκ βιβλων ηλθεν εμών οφελος,
Σπείσον εμη σποδια, σπείσον γανος, οφρα μεν οίναι
Όστεα γήθησε ταμα νοτιζομενα,
Ως ὁ Διονύσου μεμελημένος ουασι κωμός,
Ως ὁ φιλάκρητου συντροφος ἁρμονης,
Μηδε καταφθίμενος Βακχου διχα τουτον ύποίσο
Τον γενεη μερόπων χωρον οφειλόμενον.
On stranger ! if Anacreon's shell
Has ever taught thy heart to swell
With passion's throb or pleasure's sigh,
In pity turn, as wandering nigh,
And drop thy goblet's richest tear
In exquisite libation here!
So shall my sleeping ashes thrill
With visions of enjoyment still.
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