Odes of Anacreon, Volume 1J. Carpenter, 1804 - Greek poetry |
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Page 15
... bowl to Bacchus higher . Those flowery days had faded long , When youth could act the lover's part ; And passion trembled in his song , But never , never , reach'd his heart . wealth ; wealth ; and the cheerfulness with which he ...
... bowl to Bacchus higher . Those flowery days had faded long , When youth could act the lover's part ; And passion trembled in his song , But never , never , reach'd his heart . wealth ; wealth ; and the cheerfulness with which he ...
Page 31
... bowl to Stephen's name , Who rescued from the gloom of night The Teian bard of festive fame , And brought his living lyre to light . with annotations and a Latin version of the greater part with 30 REMARKS ON ANACREON . from the ...
... bowl to Stephen's name , Who rescued from the gloom of night The Teian bard of festive fame , And brought his living lyre to light . with annotations and a Latin version of the greater part with 30 REMARKS ON ANACREON . from the ...
Page 45
... bowl , Where I may cradle all my soul : But let not o'er its simple frame Your mimic constellations flame ; Nor grave upon the swelling side Orion , scowling o'er the tide . I care not for the glitt'ring wane , Nor yet the weeping ...
... bowl , Where I may cradle all my soul : But let not o'er its simple frame Your mimic constellations flame ; Nor grave upon the swelling side Orion , scowling o'er the tide . I care not for the glitt'ring wane , Nor yet the weeping ...
Page 46
Anacreon. But oh ! let vines luxuriant roll Their blushing tendrils round the bowl . While many a rose - lip'd bacchant maid Is culling clusters in their shade . Let sylvant gods , in antic shapes , Wildly press the gushing grapes ...
Anacreon. But oh ! let vines luxuriant roll Their blushing tendrils round the bowl . While many a rose - lip'd bacchant maid Is culling clusters in their shade . Let sylvant gods , in antic shapes , Wildly press the gushing grapes ...
Page 48
... bowl like mine . Display not there the barbarous rites , In which religious zeal delights ; Nor any tale of tragic fate , Which history trembles to relate ! 44 17 Degen thinks that this ode is a more modern imitation of the preceding ...
... bowl like mine . Display not there the barbarous rites , In which religious zeal delights ; Nor any tale of tragic fate , Which history trembles to relate ! 44 17 Degen thinks that this ode is a more modern imitation of the preceding ...
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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.