Odes of Anacreon, tr. into Engl. verse, with notes. By T. Moore, Volume 11820 |
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Page xxvi
... 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 . : We find him there the elegant voluptuary , dif- xxvi ...
... 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 . : We find him there the elegant voluptuary , dif- xxvi ...
Page xli
... - Ode xv . book 5 . I fill 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 . and a Latin version of the greater part of the REMARKS ON ANACREON . xli.
... - Ode xv . book 5 . I fill 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 . and a Latin version of the greater part of the REMARKS ON ANACREON . xli.
Page 57
... 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 58
Anacreon. But oh ! let vines luxuriant roll Their blushing tendrils round the bowl . While many a rose - lipp'd bacchant maid Is culling clusters in their shade . Let sylvan 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 - lipp'd bacchant maid Is culling clusters in their shade . Let sylvan gods , in antic shapes , Wildly press the gushing grapes ...
Page 60
... 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 ! Degen thinks that this ode is a more modern imitation of the preceding . There ...
... 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 ! Degen thinks that this ode is a more modern imitation of the preceding . There ...
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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 creon Cupid dart Degen delicate edition elegant English verse epigram epithet eyes fancy feel fire flame flew flowers Gail girl glowing grace grove hæc hair heart Henry Stephen Hipparchus idea imitated this ode infant Ionia kiss languid Latin Longepierre has quoted lyre Madame Dacier maid Maximus Tyrius mistress Monsieur Muses ne'er night nymphs o'er occhi ODES OF ANACREON Plato poem poet poet's Polycrates Quæ quaff Ronsard rose rosy Samos says Scaliger shade sigh sleep smile song soul Spaletti sweet Teian tell thee theme thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought translation trembled twine Vatican Venus wanton warm wild wine wing δε εν ερωτας ετε και μεν μοι προς τε ὡς
Popular passages
Page 175 - 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 126 - 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 i Since Nature's holy law is drinking ; I'll make the laws of nature mine, And pledge the universe in wine ! ODE XXII.
Page 125 - I'll example you with thievery: 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 170 - 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 gave that voice to thee, 'Tis he...
Page 131 - See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Page 71 - To-day I'll haste to quaff my wine, As if to-morrow ne'er should shine ; But if to-morrow comes, why then — I'll haste to quaff my wine again. And thus, while all our days are bright, Nor time has dimmed their bloomy light, Let us the festal hours beguile With mantling cup and cordial smile ; And shed from every bowl of wine The richest drop on Bacchus...
Page 150 - ODE XXIX. YES — loving is a painful thrill, And not to love more painful still ; But...
Page 100 - 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 ? Let them effuse the azure ray With which Minerva's glances play, And -give them all that liquid fire That Venus
Page 172 - CUPID once upon a bed Of roses laid his weary head ; Luckless urchin, not to see Within the leaves a slumbering bee ! The bee awaked — with anger wild The bee awaked, and stung the child.
Page 97 - THOU whose soft and rosy hues Mimic form and soul infuse ; Best of painters ! come, portray The lovely maid that's far away. Far away, my soul ! thou art, But I've thy beauties all by heart.