Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

Some airy nymph, with fluent limbs,
Through the dance luxuriant swims,
Waving, in her snowy hand,
The leafy Bacchanalian wand,
Which, as the tripping wanton flies,
Shakes its tresses to her sighs!

A youth, the while, with loosened hair
Floating on the listless air,

Sings, to the wild harp's tender tone,
A tale of woes, alas! his own;
And then, what nectar in his sigh,
As o'er his lip the murmurs die !1
Surely never yet has been
So divine, so blest a scene!
Has Cupid left the starry sphere,
To wave his golden tresses here ??
Oh yes! and Venus, queen of wiles,
And Bacchus shedding rosy smiles,
Ali, all are here, to hail with me
The Genius of Festivity !3

[blocks in formation]

Even the gods, who walk the sky,
Are amorous of thy scented sigh.
Cupid too, in Paphian shades,
His hair with rosy fillet braids,
When, with the blushing naked Graces,
The wanton winding dance he traces.
Then bring me showers of roses, bring,
And shed them round me while I
sing;

Great Bacchus! in thy hallowed shade,
With some celestial, glowing maid,
While gales of roses round me rise,
In perfume sweetened by her sighs,
I'll bill and twine in early dance,
Commingling soul with every glance !

ODE XLIV.4

BUDS of roses, virgin flowers,
Culled from Cupid's balmy bowers,
In the bowl of Bacchus steep,
Till with crimson drops they weep!
Twine the rose, the garland twine,
Every leaf distilling wine;

Drink and smile, and learn to think
That we were born to smile and drink.
Rose! thou art the sweetest flower
That ever drank the amber shower;

authors extant upon the subject are, I imagine, little understood; but certainly, if one of their moods was a progression by quarter-tones, which we are told was the nature of the enharmonie scale, simplicity was by no means the characteristic of their melody; for this is a nicety of progression of which modern music is not susceptible. The invention of the barbiton is, by Athenæus, attributed to Anacreon. Neanthes of Cyzicu, as quoted by Gyraldus, asserts the same. Vide Chabot, in Horat. on the words 'Lesboum barbiton,' in the first ode.

Longepierre has quoted here an epigram from the Anthologia, of which the following may give some idea:

The kiss that she left on my lip

Like a dew-drop shall lingering lie; 'Twas nectar she gave me to sip,

'Twas nectar I drank in her sigh! The dew that distilled in that kiss, To my soul was voluptuous wine;

ODE XLV.

WITHIN this goblet, rich and deep,
I cradle all my woes to sleep.
Why should we breathe the sigh of
fear,

Or pour the unavailing tear?
For death will never heed the sigh,
Nor soften at the tearful eye;
And eyes that sparkle, eyes that weep,
Must all alike be sealed in sleep.
Then let us never vainly stray.
In search of thorns, from pleasure's
way;

Ever since it is drunk with the bliss, And feels the delirium divine!

2 The introduction of these deities to the festival is merely allegorical. Madame Dacier thinks that the poet describes a masquerade, where these deities were personated by the company in masks. The translation will conform with either idea.

3 Kwuos, the deity or genius of mirth. Philostratus, in the third of his pictures (as all the annotators have observed), gives a very beautiful description of this god.

and again, in the fifty-fifth ode, we shall find our This spirited poem is a eulogy on the rose; author rich in the praises of that flower. In a fragment of Sappho, in the romance of Achilles Tatius, to which Barnes refers us, the rose is very elegantly styled the eye of flowers;' and the same poetess, in another fragment, calls the favours of the Muse the roses of Pieria.' See A the notes on the fifty-fifth ode.

[blocks in formation]

SEE, the young, the rosy Spring,
Gives to the breeze her spangled wing;
While virgin Graces, warm with May,
Fling roses o'er her dewy way!
The murmuring billows of the deep
Have languished into silent sleep;
And mark! the flitting sea-birds lave
Their plumes in the reflecting wave;
While cranes from hoary winter fly
To flutter in a kinder sky.
Now the genial star of day
Dissolves the murky clouds away;
And cultured field, and winding stream,
Are sweetly tissued by his beam.
Now the earth prolific swells
With leafy buds and flowery bells;
Gemming shoots the olive twine,
Clusters ripe festoon the vine;
All along the branches creeping,
Through the velvet foliage peeping,
Little infant fruits we see
Nursing into luxury!

ODE XLVII.

'Tis true, my fading years decline, Yet I can quaff the brimming wine

As deep as any stripling fair
Whose cheeks the flush of morning

wear;

And if, amidst the wanton crew,
I'm called to wind the dance's clue,
Thou shalt behold this vigorous hand
Not faltering on the bacchant's wand,
But brandishing a rosy flask,2
The only thyrsus e'er I'll ask !3
Let those who pant for Glory's charms
Embrace her in the field of arms;
While my inglorious, placid soul
Breathes not a wish beyond the bowl.
Then fill it high, my ruddy slave,
And bathe me in its honeyed wave!
For though my fading years decay,
And though my bloom has passed away,
Like old Silenus, sire divine,
With blushes borrowed from my wine,
I'll wanton 'mid the dancing train,
And live my follies all again!

[blocks in formation]

1The fastidious affectation of some commenta- 2 Aσkos was a kind of leathern vessel for wine, tors has denounced this ode as spurious. Degen very much in use, as should seem by the proverb pronounces the four last lines to be the patch-aokos Kaι Ovλakos, which was applied to those work of some miserable versificator, and Brunck condemns the whole ode. It appears to me to be elegantly graphical; full of delicate expressions and luxuriant imagery. Barnes conjectures, in his Life of our poet, that this ode was written after he had returned from Athens, to settle in his paternal seat at Teos: there, in a little villa at some distance from the city, which commanded a view of the Egean Sea and the islands, he contemplated the beauties of nature, and enjoyed the felicities of retirement. Vide Barnes, in Anac. vita, sec. XXXV. This supposition, however unauthenticated, forms a pleasant association, which makes the poem more interesting.

who were intemperate in eating and drinking. This proverb is mentioned in some verses quoted by Athenæus from the Hesione of Alexis.

3 Phornutus assigns as a reason for the consecration of the thyrsus to Bacchus, that inebriety often renders the support of a stick very necessary.

The ivy was consecrated to Bacchus (says Montfaucon), because he formerly lay hid under that tree, or, as others will have it, because its leaves resemble those of the vine.' Other reasons for its consecration, and the use of it in garlands at banquets, may be found in Longepierre, Barnes, etc. etc.

2

[blocks in formation]

Warm with the goblet's freshening dews,

My heart invokes the heavenly Muse.
When I drink, my sorrow's o'er ;
I think of doubts and fears no more;
But scatter to the railing wind
Each gloomy phantom of the mind!
When I drink, the jesting boy,
Bacchus himself, partakes my joy;
And, while we dance through breath-
ing bowers,

Whose every gale is rich with flowers,
In bowls he makes my senses swim,
Till the gale breathes of nought but
him!

When I drink, I deftly twine
Flowers begemmed with tears of wine;
And, while with festive hand I
spread

The smiling garland round my head,
Something whispers in my breast,
How sweet it is to live at rest!
When I drink, and perfume stills
Around me all in balmy rills,
Then as some beauty, smiling roses,
In languor on my breast reposes,
Venus! I breathe my vows to thee,
In many a sigh of luxury!
When I drink, my heart refines,
And rises as the cup declines,—
Rises in the genial flow

That none but social spirits know,
When youthful revellers round the

bowl,

Dilating, mingle soul with soul !5

When I drink, the bliss is mine,—

There's bliss in every drop of wine!

I have adopted the interpretation of Regnier markable. It is a kind of song of seven quatrain

and others:

Altri segua Marte fero;

Che sol Bacco è 'l mio conforto. This, the preceding ode, and a few more of the same character, are merely chansons à boire. Most likely they were the effusions of the moment of conviviality, and were sung, we imagine, with rapture in Greece; but that interesting association, by which they always recalled the convivial emotions that produced them, can be very little felt by the most enthusiastic reader; and much less by a phlegmatic grammarian, who sees nothing in them but dialects and particles.

Faber thinks this spurious; but I believe he is singular in his opinion. It has all the spirit of our author. Like the wreath which he presented in the dream, 'it smells of Anacreon.'

The form of this ode in the original is re

stanzas, each beginning with the line:

Οτ' εγω πιω τον οινον. The first stanza alone is incomplete, consisting but of three lines.

pierre) whom wine has inspired with poetry. Anacreon is not the only one (says LongeThere is an epigram in the first book of the Anthologia, which begins thus:

Οινος τοι χαριεντι μέγας πελει ίππος αοιδών, * Ύδωρ δε πίνων, καλον ου τεκοις επος. If with water you fill up your glasses, You'll never write anything wise; For wine is the horse of Parnassus, Which hurries a bard to the skies! Subjoined to Gail's edition of Anacreon, there are some curious letters upon the aσo of the

All other joys that 1 have known,
I've scarcely dared to call my own;
But this the Fates can ne'er destroy,
Till Death o'ershadows all my joy!

ODE LI.1

FLY not thus, my brow of snow,
Lovely wanton! fly not so.
Though the wane of age is mine,
Though the brilliant flush is thine,
Still I'm doomed to sigh for thee,
Blest, if thou could'st sigh for me!
See, in yonder flowery braid,
Culled for thee, my blushing maid,
How the rose, of orient glow,
Mingles with the lily's snow;
Mark how sweet their tints agree,
Just, my girl, like thee and me!

ODE LII.3

AWAY, away, you men of rules,
What have I to do with schools?

They'd make me learn, they'd make me

think,

But would they make me love and
drink?

Teach me this, and let me swim
My soul upon the goblet's brim;
Teach me this, and let me twine
My arms around the nymph divine !4
Age begins to blanch my brow,
I've time for nought but pleasure now.
Fly, and cool my goblet's glow
At yonder fountain's gelid flow;
I'll quaff, my boy, and calmly sink
This soul to slumber as I drink!
Soon, too soon, my jocund slave,
You'll deck your master's grassy grave;
And there's an end-for ah! you know,
They drink but little wine below !5

ODE LIII.

WHEN I behold the festive train
Of dancing youth, I'm young again !
Memory wakes her magic trance,
And wings me lightly through the dance.

ancients, which appeared in the French journals. of the colour in garlands, a shepherd, in Theo-
At the opening of the Odeon, in Paris, the mana-critus, endeavours to recommend his black hair:
Rers of the spectacle requested Professor Gail to Και το ιον μελαν εστι, και ά γραπτα ύακινθος
give them some uncommon name for the fêtes of Αλλ' εμπας εν τοις στεφανοις τα πρωτα λεγονται.
This institution. He suggested the word 'Thiase,'
which was adopted; but the literati of Paris
Longepierre, Barnes, etc.
questioned the propriety of it, and addressed
their criticisms to Gail, through the medium of
the public prints. Two or three of the letters he

has inserted in his edition, and they have elicited from him some learned research on the subject.

Alberti has imitated this ode; and Capilupus, in the following epigram, has given a version

of it:

Cur, Lalage, mea vita, meos contemnis amores?
Cur fugis e nostro pulchra puella sinu?
Ne fugias, sint sparsa licet mea tempora canis,
Inque tuo roseus fulgeat ore color.
Aspice ut intextas deceant quoque flore corollas
Candida purpureis lilia mixta rosis.

Oh! why repel my soul's impassioned vow,
And fly, beloved maid, these longing arms?
is it that wintry time has strewed my brow,
And thine are all the summer's roseate charms?
See the rich garland, culled in vernal weather,
Where the young rosebud with the lily glows;
In wreaths of love we thus may twine together,
And I will be the lily, thou the rose.

'In the same manner that Anacreon pleads for the whiteness of his locks, from the beauty

8 This is doubtless the work of a more modern poet than Anacreon; for at the period when he lived rhetoricians were not known.-Degen.

Though the antiquity of this ode is confirmed by the Vatican manuscript, I am very much inclined to agree in this argument against its authenticity; for, though the dawnings of who gave it any celebrity was Corax of Syracuse, rhetoric might already have appeared, the first and he flourished in the century after Anacreon.

Our poet anticipated the ideas of Epicurus, in his aversion to the labours of learning as well as his devotion to voluptuousness. Πασαν παιδειαν μακάριοι φευγετε, said the philosopher of the garden in a letter to Pythocles.

• By χρυσης Αφροδιτης here, I understand some
beautiful girl; in the same manner that Avalos
is often used for wine. Golden' is frequently
an epithet of beauty. Thus in Virgil, Venus
lus, however, calls an old woman 'golden.'
aurea,' and in Propertius. Cynthia aurea.' Tibul-
Thus the witty Mainard:

La Mort nous guette; et quand ses lois
Nous ont enfermés une fois
An sein d'une fosse profonde,
Adieu bons vins et bons repas,
Ma science ne trouve pas
Des cabarets en l'autre monde.

Come, Cybeba, smiling maid!
Cull the flower and twine the braid;
Bid the blush of summer's rose
Burn upon my brow of suows ;1
And let me, while the wild and young
Trip the mazy dance along,
Fling my heap of years away,
And be as wild, as young as they.
Hither haste, some cordial soul!
Give my lips the brimming bowl;
Oh! you will see this hoary sage
Forget his locks, forget his age.
He still can chaunt the festive hymn,
He still can kiss the goblet's brim;"
He still can act the mellow raver,
And play the fool as sweet as ever!

ODE LIV.3

METHINKS the pictured bull we see
Is amorous Jove-it must be he!
How fondly blest he seems to bear
The fairest of Phoenician fair!
How proud he breasts the foamy tide,
And spurns the billowy surge aside!
Could any beast of vulgar vein
Undaunted thus defy the main !
No he descends from climes above,
He looks the god, he breathes of Jove!

'It appears that wreaths of flowers were adapted for poets and revellers at banquets, but by no means became those who had pretensions to wisdom and philosophy.' On this principle, in his 152d chapter, Licetus discovers a retinement in Virgil, describing the garland of the poet Silenus as fallen off; which distinguishes, he thinks, the divine intoxication of Silenus from that of common drunkards, who always wear their crowns while they drink. This, indeed, is the labor ineptiarum' of commentators.

2 Wine is prescribed by Galen as an excellent medicine for old men, 'Quod frigidos et humoribus expletos calefaciat,' etc.; but nature was Anacreon's physician.

There is a proverb in Eriphus, as quoted by Athenæus, which says, 'that wine makes an old man dance whether he will or not.'

Λόγος εστ' αρχαίος, ου κακως έχων,
Οινον λεγουσι τους γέροντας, ω πατερ,
Πείθειν χορεειν ου θέλοντας.

3 This ode is written upon a picture which represented the rape of Europa.'- Madame Dacier.

It may perhaps be considered as a description of one of those coins which the Sidonians struck off in honour of Europa, representing a woman

ODE LV.5

WHILE We invoke the wreathed spring,
Resplendent rose! to thee we'll sing;
Resplendent rose! the flower of flowers,
Whose breath perfumes Olympus'
bowers;

Whose virgin blush, of chastened dye,
Enchants so much our mortal eye.
When Pleasure's bloomy season glows,
The Graces love to twine the rose;
The rose is warm Dione's bliss,
And flushes like Dione's kiss!
Oft has the poet's magic tongue
The rose's fair luxuriance sung;
And long the Muses, heavenly maids.
Have reared it in their tuneful shades.
When, at the early glance of morn,
It sleeps upon the glittering thorn,
'Tis sweet to dare the tangled fence,
To cull the timid floweret thence,
And wipe, with tender hand, away
The tear that on its blushes lay!
'Tis sweet to hold the infant stems,
Yet dropping with Aurora's
gems,
And fresh inhale the spicy sighs
That from the weeping buds arise.
When revel reigns, when mirth is high,
And Bacchus beams in every eye,
Our rosy fillets scent exhale,
And fill with balm the fainting gale !

[blocks in formation]

Κρυψε θεόν και τρεψε δέμας και γίνετο ταύρος. The God forgot himself, his heaven, for love, And a bull's form belied the almighty Jove.

This ode is a brilliant panegyric on the rose. All antiquity (says Barnes) has produced nothing more beautiful.'

From the idea of peculiar excellence which the ancients attached to this flower, arose a pretty proverbial expression, used by Aristophanes, according to Suidas, ροδα μ' ειρηκας, You have spoken roses,' a phrase somewhat similar to the dire des fleurettes' of the French. In the same idea of excellence originated, I doubt not, a very curious application of the word podov, for which the inquisitive reader may consult Gaulminus (upon the epithalamium of our Doet, where it is

« НазадПродовжити »