In all the glow of epic fire,1 To Hercules I wake the lyre.2 To man she gave, in that proud hour She gave thee beauty-mightier far ODE XXIV.3 To all that breathe the air of heaven, She fenced with wreathed horns his skull; 1 In all the glow of epic fire, To Hercules I wake the lyre.] Madame Dacier generally translates Avpn into a lute, which I believe is inaccurate. "D'expliquer la lyre des anciens (says M. Sorel) par un luth, c'est ignorer la différence qu'il y a entre ces deux instrumens de musique."-Bibliothèque Françoise. 2 But still its fainting sighs repeat, "The tale of love alone is sweet!"] The word avreḍwvetin the original, may imply that kind of musical dialogue practised by the ancients, in which the lyre was made to respond to the questions proposed by the singer. This was a method which Sappho used, as we are told by Hermogenes; "brav την λύραν έρωτα Σαπφώ, και όταν αυτή αποκρίνηται.”Περι Ιδεων, τομ. δευτ. Henry Stephen has imitated the idea of this ode in the following lines of one of his poems: Provida dat cunctis Natura animantibus arma, Ungulâque ut defendit equum, atque ut cornua taurum, ODE XXV.7 ONCE in each revolving year, And never, never change their nest! translate this ode, I had interpreted pornua, with B Barnes, as implying courage and military virtue; not think that the gallantry of the idea suffers by th which I have now given to it. For, why need we this possession of wisdom as exclusive? and in trut design of Anacreon is to estimate the treasure of above all the rest which Nature has distributed, it is even refining upon the delicacy of the compliment, the radiance of female charms to the cold illumin wisdom and prudence; and to think that women's the books, the academies, From whence doth spring the true Promethean 5 She gave thee beauty-mightier far Than all the pomp and power of war.] Thus Ach tius :-καλλος οξυτερον τιτρώσκει βέλους, και δια τα μων εις την ψυχην καταρρει. Οφθαλμος γαρ όδος Tрavμari. "Beauty wounds more swiftly than th and passes through the eye to the very soul; for t the inlet to the wounds of love." Be thou but fair, mankind adore thee, Smile, and a world is weak before thee! Longe pie And the same thought occurs in those lines, spoken by mark here is ingenious:-"The Romans," says he Corisca in Pastor Fido: Cosi noi la bellezza Ch' è vertu nostra cosi propria, come La forza del leone, E l'ingegno de l'huomo. The lion boasts his savage powers, And lordly man his strength of mind; "An elegant explication of the beauties of this ode (says Degen) may be found in Grimm an den Anmerk. über einige Oden des Anakr." 4 To man she gave, in that proud hour, The boon of intellectual power.] In my first attempt to so convinced of the power of beauty, that they used implying strength in the place of the epithet beautift Plautus, act 2, scene 2. Bacchid. Sed Bacchis etiam fortis tibi visa. 'Fortis, id est formosa,' say Servius and Nonius." 7 We have here another ode addressed to the s Alberti has imitated both in one poem, beginning Perch' io pianga al tuo canto, Rondinella importuna, &c. 8 Alas! unlike the swarm of Loves, That brood within this hapless breast, And never, never change their nest!] Thus Love sented as a bird, in an epigram cited by Longepier the Anthologia :— Still every year, and all the year, While in the shell, impregn'd with fires, To chase these Cupids from my heart? Nor naval arms, nor mailed steed, ODE XXVII.3 WE read the flying courser's name Through them we see the small faint mark, ODE XXVI.A THY harp may sing of Troy's alarms, Διει μοι δύνει μεν εν ουασιν ήχος έρωτος, And makes me shed the secret tear; A wound within my heart I find, And oh! 'tis plain where Love has been; Oh, bird of Love! with song so drear, Make not my soul the nest of pain; 1 "The German poet Uz has imitated this ode. Compare also Weisse Scherz. Lieder, lib. iii., der Soldat." Gail, Degen. No-twas from eyes of liquid blue A host of quiver'd Cupids flew ;] Longepierre has quoted part of an epigram from the seventh book of the Anthologia, which has a fancy something like this. Ου με λέληθας, Τοξοτα, Ζηνοφίλας όμμασι κρυπτομένος I saw thee through the curtain peeping, The poets abound with conceits on the archery of the eyes, ODE XXVIII.5 As, by his Lemnian forge's flame, Shed honey round each new-made dart, but few have turned the thought so naturally as Anacreon Ronsard gives to the eyes of his mistress "un petit camp d'amours." * This ode forms a part of the preceding in the Vatican MS., but I have conformed to the editions in translating them separately. “Compare with this (says Degen) the poem of Ramler Wahrzeichen der Liebe, in Lyr. Blumenlese, lib. iv. p. 313." 4 But in the lover's glowing eyes, The inlet to his bosom lies;] "We cannot see into the heart," says Madame Dacier. But the lover answers Il cor ne gli occhi et ne la fronte ho scritto. M. La Fosse has given the following lines, as enlarging on the thought of Anacreon: Lorsque je vois un amant, In vain the lover tries to veil The flame that in his bosom lies; This ode is referred to by La Mothe le Vayer, who believe, was the author of that curious little work, called "Hexameron Rustique." He makes use of this, as well as the thirty-fifth, in his ingenious but indelicate explanation of Homer's Cave of the Nymphs.--Journée Quatrieme. While Love, at hand, to finish all, ODE XXIX. YES-loving is a painful thrill, And all its fonder feelings fled! War too has sullied Nature's charms, Βραδιας τετηγμένοισι 'Αγιους έρωτας ήμων Thou of tuneful bards the first, 1 Barnes imagines from this allegory, that our poet married very late in life. But I see nothing in the ode which alludes to matrimony, except it be the lead upon the feet of Cupid; and I agree in the opinion of Madame Dacier, in her life of the poet, that he was always too fond of pleasure to marry. * The design of this little fiction is to intimate, that much greater pain attends insensibility than can ever result from the tenderest impressions of love. Longepierre has quoted an ancient epigram which bears some similitude to this ode:Lecto compositus, vix prima silentia noctis Carpebam, et somno lumina victa dabam; Cum me sævus Amor prensum, sursumque capillis Excitat, et lacerum pervigilare jubet. Tu famulus meus, inquit, ames cum mille puellas, Passion my guide, and madness in my breast, ODE XXXI.2 ARM'D with yacinthine rod, ODE XXXII. STREW me a fragrant bed of leaves, Where lotus with the myrtle weaves; Till my brow dropp'd with chilly dew.] I have followed those who read τειρεν ίδρως for πειρεν ύδρος; the former is partly authorized by the MS. which reads εipev idpws. And now my soul, exhausted, dying, To my lip was faintly flying; &c.] In the original, he says, his heart flew to his nose; but our manner more naturally transfers it to the lips. Such is the effect that Plato tells us he felt from a kiss, in a distich quoted by Aulus Gellius: Την ψυχην, Αγαθωνα φίλων, επι χειλεσιν ἔσχον. Whene'er thy nectar'd kiss I sip, And drink thy breath, in trance divine, My soul then flutters to my lip, Ready to fly and mix with thine. Aulus Gellius subjoins a paraphrase of this epigram, in which we find a number of those mignardises of expression, which mark the effemination of the Latin language. And fanning light his breezy pinion, Rescued my 'soul from death's dominion;] "The facility with which Cupid recovers him, signifies that the sweets of love make us easily forget any solicitudes which he may occasion."-La Fosse. We here have the poet, in his true attributes, reclining upon myrtles, with Cupid for his cupbearer. Some interpreters have ruined the picture by making Eows the name of his slave. None but Love should fill the goblet of Anacreon. Sappho, in one of her fragments, has assigned this office to Venus. Ελθε, Κυπρι, χρυσείαισιν εν κυλικεσσιν ἁβροις συμμε μιγμένον θαλιαισι νεκταρ οινοχουσα τουτοισι τοῖς ἑταίροις έμοις γε και σοις. Which may be thus paraphrased :— Hither, Venus, queen of kisses, And while in luxury's dream I sink, Oh, swift as wheels that kindling roll, Oh no; And bring the nymph whose eye hath power ODE XXXIII.1 "Twas noon of night, when round the pole The sullen Bear is seen to roll; And mortals, wearied with the day, Are slumbering all their cares away: An infant, at that dreary hour, Came weeping to my silent bower, And waked me with a piteous prayer, To shield him from the midnight air. "And who art thou," I waking cry, "That bidd'st my blissful visions fly?"" Bid the rosy current gush, "Compare with this ode (says the German commentator) the beautiful poem in Ramler's Lyr. Blumenlese, lib. iv. p. 296, Amor als Diener.'" M. Bernard, the author of L'Art d'aimer, has written a ballet called "Les Surprises de l'Amour," in which the subject of the third entrée is Anacreon, and the story of this "Ah, gentle sire!" the infant said, "In pity take me to thy shed; Nor fear deceit: a lonely child I wander o'er the gloomy wild. Chill drops the rain, and not a ray Illumes the drear and misty way!" I heard the baby's tale of wo; I heard the bitter night-winds blow; And sighing for his piteous fate, I trimm'd my lamp and oped the gat "Twas Love! the little wand'ring spr His pinion sparkled through the night I knew him by his bow and dart; I knew him by my fluttering heart. Fondly I take him in, and raise The dying embers' cheering blaze; Press from his dank and clinging hai The crystals of the freezing air, And in my hand and bosom hold His little fingers thrilling cold. And now the embers' genial ray Had warm'd his anxious fears away "I pray thee," said the wanton child (My bosom trembled as he smiled,) "I pray thee let me try my bow, For through the rain I've wander'd s That much I fear the midnight show Has injured its elastic power." The fatal bow the urchin drew; Swift from the string the arrow flew As swiftly flew as glancing flame, And to my inmost spirit came! "Fare thee well," I heard him say, As laughing wild he wing'd away; "Fare thee well, for now I know The rain has not relax'd my bow; It still can send a thrilling dart, As thou shalt own with all thy hear ode suggests one of the scenes.-Œuvres de Be scene 4th. The German annotator refers us here to an Uz, lib. iii., "Amor und sein Bruder;" and Kleist, "die Heilung." La Fontaine has t rather imitated this ode. 2" And who art thou," I waking cry, “That bidd'st my blissful visions fly ?”] Anac to have been a voluptuary even in dreaming, I regret which he expresses at being disturbed ionary enjoyments. See the odes x. and xxxvii. 'Troas Love! the little wand'ring sprite, & beautiful description of Cupid, by Moschus, in |