Odes of Anacreon, Volume 1J. Carpenter, 1804 - Greek poetry |
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Page 77
... blisses . No tongue shall tell the sum but mine ; No lips shall fascinate , but thine ! In the sweet Corinthian grove , Where the glowing wantons rove , & c . ] Corinth was very famous for the beauty and the number of its courtezans ...
... blisses . No tongue shall tell the sum but mine ; No lips shall fascinate , but thine ! In the sweet Corinthian grove , Where the glowing wantons rove , & c . ] Corinth was very famous for the beauty and the number of its courtezans ...
Page 89
... 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 . G 3 Gradual Then her lip , so rich in blisses ! Sweet ODES OF ANACREON . 89.
... 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 . G 3 Gradual Then her lip , so rich in blisses ! Sweet ODES OF ANACREON . 89.
Page 90
... blisses ! Sweet petitioner for kisses ! ] The " lip , provoking kisses , " in the original , is a strong and beautiful expression . Achilles Tatius speaks of χειλη μαλθακα προς τα φιληματα , " Lips soft and delicate for kissing . " A ...
... blisses ! Sweet petitioner for kisses ! ] The " lip , provoking kisses , " in the original , is a strong and beautiful expression . Achilles Tatius speaks of χειλη μαλθακα προς τα φιληματα , " Lips soft and delicate for kissing . " A ...
Page 149
... blisses ! This the night , to friendship dear , Thou shalt be our Hebe here . Fill the golden brimmer high , Let it sparkle like thine eye ! L Bid In this delicious hour of joy , Young Love shall ODES OF ANACREON . 149.
... blisses ! This the night , to friendship dear , Thou shalt be our Hebe here . Fill the golden brimmer high , Let it sparkle like thine eye ! L Bid In this delicious hour of joy , Young Love shall ODES OF ANACREON . 149.
Page 151
... die ! Yes , Cupid ! ere my soul retire , To join the blest elysian choir , With wine , and love , and blisses dear , I'll make my own elysium here ! L 2 ODE ODE XXXIII . ' Twas noon of night , when ODES OF ANACREON . 151.
... die ! Yes , Cupid ! ere my soul retire , To join the blest elysian choir , With wine , and love , and blisses dear , I'll make my own elysium here ! L 2 ODE ODE XXXIII . ' Twas noon of night , when ODES OF ANACREON . 151.
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Tatius Amor Anacreon and Sappho ancients Angerianus Anthologia Apollo Apuleius Aulus Gellius Bacchus bard Barnes Bathyllus beauty blisses blushing bosom bowl breast breath brow Catullus charms Colomesius Cupid dart Degen Diogenes Laertius edition elegant epigram epithet eyes fancy feel fire flame flew flowers Gail girl glowing grace grove hæc hair heart Henry Stephen idea imitated this ode Ionia Isaac Vossius kiss Latin Longepierre has quoted lyre Madame Dacier maid Maximus Tyrius mistress Monsieur Muses ne'er night nymphs o'er ODE ODE ODES OF ANACREON Olaus Borrichius Paint Plato poem poet poet's Polycrates Quæ quaff Ronsard rose rosy says Scaliger sigh sleep smile song soul sweet Teian tell thee thine thou thought translation trembled twine Vatican Venus verse Vossius wanton warm wild wine wing δε Ει εις εν Ερωτα και μεν μη μοι ποτ προς τε ὡς
Popular passages
Page 156 - Whatever decks the velvet field, Whate'er the circling seasons yield, Whatever buds, whatever blows, For thee it buds, for thee it grows. Nor yet art thou the peasant's fear, To him thy friendly notes are dear; For thou art mild as matin dew, And still, when summer's flowery hue Begins to paint the bloomy plain, We hear thy sweet prophetic strain; Thy sweet prophetic strain we hear, And bless the notes and thee revere! The Muses love thy shrilly tone ; Apollo calls thee all his own; 'Twas he who...
Page 161 - O mother ! — I am wounded through I die with pain— in sooth I do ! Stung by some little angry thing, Some serpent on a tiny wing — A bee it was — for once, I know, I heard a rustic call it so.
Page 112 - The vapours, which at evening weep, Are beverage to the swelling deep ; And when the rosy sun appears, He drinks the ocean's misty tears. The moon too quaffs her paly stream Of lustre from the solar beam. Then, hence with all your sober thinking ! Since Nature's holy law is drinking ; I'll make the laws of nature mine, And pledge the universe in wine ! ODE XXII.
Page 38 - I hung it o'er my thoughtless brow , And ah ! I feel its magic now ! I feel that even his garland's touch Can make the bosom love too much ! ODE II.
Page 111 - The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft.
Page 90 - Sport and flutter on its snow. Now let a floating lucid veil Shadow her limbs, but not conceal ; A charm may peep, a hue may beam, And leave the rest to Fancy's dream.
Page 86 - Where her tresses' curly flow Darkles o'er the brow of snow, Let her forehead beam to light, Burnish'd as the ivory bright. Let her eyebrows sweetly rise In jetty arches o'er her eyes, Gently in a crescent gliding, Just commingling, just dividing. But hast thou any sparkles warm The lightning of her eyes to form t Let them effuse the azure ray With which Minerva's glances play, And give them all that liquid fire That Venus
Page 115 - And take me panting to thy breast ! I wish I might a rose-bud grow, And thou wouldst cull me from the bower, And place me on that breast of snow...
Page 20 - He steals us so insensibly along with him, that we sympathize even in his excesses. In his amatory odes there is a delicacy of compliment not to be found in any other ancient poet. Love at that period was rather an unrefined emotion ; and the intercourse of the sexes was ani mated more by passion than sentiment.
Page 78 - Led by what chart, transports the timid dove The wreaths of conquest, or the vows of love ? Say, thro' the clouds what compass points her flight ? Monarchs have gazed, and nations blessed the sight.