Odes of Anacreon, tr. into Engl. verse, with notes. By T. Moore, Volume 11820 |
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Page xix
... says , " Je n'ai point marqué d'Olympiade ; car pour un homme qui a vecu 85 ans , il me semble que l'on ne doit point s'enfermer dans des bornès si étroites . " + This mistake is founded on a false interpretation of a very obvious ...
... says , " Je n'ai point marqué d'Olympiade ; car pour un homme qui a vecu 85 ans , il me semble que l'on ne doit point s'enfermer dans des bornès si étroites . " + This mistake is founded on a false interpretation of a very obvious ...
Page xxvii
... but consecrated , we shall say that the disposition of our poet was amiable ; his morality was relaxed , but not abandoned ; and Virtue , with her zone loosened , may be an emblem of the character of REMARKS ON ANACREON . xxvii.
... but consecrated , we shall say that the disposition of our poet was amiable ; his morality was relaxed , but not abandoned ; and Virtue , with her zone loosened , may be an emblem of the character of REMARKS ON ANACREON . xxvii.
Page xxix
... ( says Canini ) che quelle cittadini la`coni- assero in honore del suo compatriota poeta . " There is also among the coins of De Wilde one , which , though it bears no effigy , was probably struck to the memory of Anacreon . It has the ...
... ( says Canini ) che quelle cittadini la`coni- assero in honore del suo compatriota poeta . " There is also among the coins of De Wilde one , which , though it bears no effigy , was probably struck to the memory of Anacreon . It has the ...
Page xxx
... ( says Scaliger ) is sweeter than the juice of the Indian reed . " Poëtices , lib . i . cap . 44. " From the softness of his verses ( says Olaus Borrichius ) the ancients bestowed on him the epithets sweet , delicate , graceful , & c ...
... ( says Scaliger ) is sweeter than the juice of the Indian reed . " Poëtices , lib . i . cap . 44. " From the softness of his verses ( says Olaus Borrichius ) the ancients bestowed on him the epithets sweet , delicate , graceful , & c ...
Page xxxi
... says Vossius , " that the itera- tion of his words conduces very much to the sweetness of his style . " Henry Stephen remarks the same beauty in a note on the forty - fourth ode . This figure of itera- tion is his most appropriate grace ...
... says Vossius , " that the itera- tion of his words conduces very much to the sweetness of his style . " Henry Stephen remarks the same beauty in a note on the forty - fourth ode . This figure of itera- tion is his most appropriate grace ...
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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.