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And, while we dance through breathing 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, begemm'd 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!
When I drink, the bliss is mine,-
There's bliss in every drop of wine!
All other joys that I 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!

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Though the wane of age is mine,
Though the brilliant flush is thine,
Still I'm doom'd to sigh for thee,
Blest, if thou couldst sigh for me!
See, in yonder flowery braid,
Cull'd 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. '

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!
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;

Is it, that wintry time has strew'd my brow,
And thine are all the summer's roseate charms?
See the rich garland, cull'd 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!

See, in yonder flowery braid,

Cull'd for thee, my blushing maid!] In the same manner that Anacreon pleads for the whiteness of his locks, from the beauty of the colour in garlands, a shepherd, in Theocritus, endeavours to recommend his black hair:

Και το τον μελαν εςι, και ά γραπτα ύακινθος
Αλλ' έμπας εν τοις ςεφάνοις τα πρώτα λέγονται. »
Longepierre, Barnes, etc.

This is doubtless the work of a more modern poet than Anacreon, for at the period when he lived rhetoricians were not known.”—Dɛ

GEN.

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 rhetoric might already have appeared, the first who gave it any celebrity was Corax of Syracuse, and he flourished in the century after Anacreon.

When youthful revellers, round the bowl, Dilating, mingle soul with soul!] Subjoined to Gail's edition of Anacreon, there are some curious letters upon the 2501 of the ancients, which appeared in the French Journals. At the opening of the Odeon, in Paris, the managers of the spectacle requested ProOur poet anticipated the ideas of Epicurus, in his aversion to the fessor Gail to give them some uncommon name for the fêtes of this institution. He suggested the word Thiase, which was adopted; a panzplot peuyere, said the philosopher of labours of learning, as well as his devotion to voluptuousness.but the literati of Paris 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 sina?

No 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 impassion'd vow,
And fly, beloved maid, these longing arms?

the garden in a letter to Pythocles.

Teach me this, and let me twine

My arms around the nymph divine ! By χρυσης Αφροδίτης here, I understand some beautiful girl; in the same manner that Auxtos is often used for wine. Golden is frequently an epithet of beauty. Thus in Virgil, Venus aurea; and in Propertius, Cynthia aurea. Tibullus, however, calls an old woman golden.. The translation d'Autori Anonimi, as usual, wantons on this passage of Anacreon:

E m' insegni con più rare
Forme accorte d' involare
Ad amabile beltade

Il bel cinto d'onestade.

And there's an end-for ah! you know, They drink but little wine below!

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.
Come, Cybeba, smiling maid!

Cull the flower and twine the braid;
Bid the blush of summer's rose

snows;

Burn upon my brow of
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!

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Bid the blush of summer's rose

It

Burn upon my brow of snows, etc.] Licetus, in his Hieroglyphica, quoting two of our poet's odes, where he calls for garlands, remarks, Constat igitur floreas coronas poetis et potantibus in symposio convenire, non autem sapientibus et philosophiam affectantibus. appears that wreaths of flowers were adapted for poets and revellers at banquets, but by no means became those who had pretensions 10 wisdom and philosophy. On this principle, in bis 15ad chapter, he discovers a refinement 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.

He still can kiss the goblet's brim, etc.] Wine is prescribed by Galen as an excellent medicine for old men: « Quod frigidos et humoribus expletos calefaciat, etc.; but Nature was Anacreon's phy

sician.

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

Λόγος ες αρχαιος, ου κακως εχων,
Οινον λέγουσι τους γέροντας, ω πατερ,
Πείθειν χορεειν ου θέλοντας.

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

How fondly blest he seems to bear
That fairest of Phenician 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!

ODE LV.'

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 chasten'd 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!

woman carried across the sea by a bull. Thus Natalis Comes, lib. viii, cap. 23. Sidonii numismata cum fœmina tauri dorso insidente ac mare transfretante, cuderunt in ejus honorem. In the little treatise upon the goddess of Syria, attributed very falsely to Lucian, there is mention of this coin, and of a temple dedicated by the Sidonians to Astarte, whom some, it appears, confounded with Europa. Moschus has written a very beautiful idyl on the story of Europa.

No: he descends from climes above,

He looks the God, he breathes of Jove.] Thus Moschus:

Κρυψε Θεόν και τρεψε δέμας· και γινετο ταύρος.

The God forgot himself, his heaven, for love,
And a bull's form belied the almighty Jove.
All antiquity

1 This ode is a brilliant panegyric on the rose. (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, pro petprxas, 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 oo, for which the inquisitive reader may consult Gaulminus upon the epithalamium of our poet, where it is introduced in the romance of Theodorus. Muretus, in one of his elegies, calls his mistress his rose.

Jam te igitur rursus teneo, formosula, jam te
(Quid trepidas ?) teneo; jam, rosa, te teneo.

Now I again embrace thee, dearest,
(Tell me, wanton, why thou fearest!)
Again my longing arms infold thee,
Again, my rose, again I hold thee.

Eleg. 8.

This, like most of the terms of endearment in the modern Latin poets, is taken from Plautus; they were vulgar and colloquial in his time, and they are among the elegancies of the modern Latinists. Passeratius alludes to the ode before us, in the beginning of his poem on the Rose:

Carmine digna rosa est; vellem caneretur ut illam
Teius arguta cecinit testudine vates.

Resplendent rose to thee we'll sing.] I have passed over the line συν εταιρει αύξει μέλπην; it is corrupt in this original reading, and has been very little improved by the annotators. I should suppose it to be an interpolation, if it were not for a line which occurs afterwards: spe on pusly deywper.

The rose is warm Dione's bliss, etc.] Belleau, in a note upon an old French poet, quoting the original here 2p soolotov s'atuppa, translates it, comme les délices et mignardises de Vénus.

Oft has the poet's magic tongue
The rose's fair luxuriance sung;
And long the Muses, heavenly maids,
Have rear'd it in their tuneful shades.
When, at the early glance of morn,
It sleeps upon the glittering thorn,
"T is sweet to dare the tangled fence,
To cull the timid flow'ret thence,
And wipe, with tender hand, away
The tear that on its blushes lay!
'T is 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!
Oh, there is nought in nature bright,
Where roses do not shed their light!
When morning paints the orient skies,
Her fingers burn with roseate dyes!
The nymphs display the rose's charms,
It mantles o'er their graceful arms;
Through Cytherea's form it glows,
And mingles with the living snows.
The rose distils a healing balm,
The beating pulse of pain to calm;
Preserves the cold inurned clay,
And mocks the vestige of decay:

Oft has the poet's magic tongue,

The rose's fair luxuriance sung, etc.] The following is a fragment of the Lesbian poetess. It is cited in the romance of Achilles Tatius, who appears to have resolved the numbers into prose. Ev Tots av θεσιν ηθελεν ὁ Ζευς επιθείναι βασιλέα, το ροδον αν των ανθέων εβασιλευει γης εςι κόσμος, φυτων αγλαίσμα, οφθαλμος ανθέων, λειμώνος ερύθημα, κάλλος ας ράπτον. Ερωτος πνει, Αφροδίτην προξενει, ευει δεσι φύλλοις κομα, ευκίνητοις πεταλοις τρυφα το πεταλον το Ζέφυρο γελα.

If Jove would give the leafy Lowers
A queen for all their world of flowers,
The rose would be the choice of Jove,
And blush the queen of every grove.
Sweetest child of weeping morning,
Gem, the vest of earth adorning,
Eye of flow'rets, glow of lawns,
Bud of beauty nursed by dawns:
Soft the soul of love it breathes,
Cypria's brow with magic wreathes,
And, to the Zephyr's warm caresses,
Diffuses all its verdant tresses,

Till, glowing with the wanton's play,
It blushes a diviner ray!

When morning paints the orient skies,

Her fingers burn with roscate dyes, etc.] In the original here, he enumerates the many epithets of beauty, borrowed from roses, which were used by the poets, παρά των σοφών. We see that poets were dignified in Greece with the title of sages; even the careless Anacreon, who lived but for love and voluptuousness, was called by Plato the wise Anacreon. Fuit hæc sapientia quondam.

Preserves the cold inurned clay, etc.] He here alludes to the use of the rose in embalming; and, perhaps (as Barnes thinks), to the rosy unguent with which Venus anointed the corpse of Hector. Homer's Iliad, . It may likewise regard the ancient practice of putting garlands of roses on the dead, as in Statius, Theb. lib. x, 782. hi sertis, hi veris honore soluto

Accumulant artus patriaque in sede reponunt
Corpus odoratum,

Where veris honor, though it mean every kind of flowers, may

And when, at length, in pale decline,
Its florid beauties fade and pine,
Sweet as in youth, its balmy breath
Diffuses odour e'en in death!

Oh! whenee could such a plant have sprung?
Attend-for thus the tale is sung.
When, humid, from the silvery stream,
Effusing beauty's warmest beam,
Venus appear'd, in flushing hues,
Mellow'd by Ocean's briny dews;
When, in the starry courts above,
The pregnant brain of mighty Jove
Disclosed the nymph of azure glance,
The nymph who shakes the martial lance!
Then, then, in strange eventful hour,
The earth produced an infant flower,
Which sprung, with blushing tinctures dress'd,
And wanton'd o'er its parent breast.
The gods beheld this brilliant birth,
And hail'd the Rose, the boon of earth!
With nectar drops, a ruby tide,

The sweetly orient buds they dyed,
And bade them bloom, the flowers divine
Of him who sheds the teeming vine;
And bade them on the spangled thorn
Expand their bosoms to the morn.

seem more particularly to refer to the rose, which our poet, in another ode, calls Expos μednya. We read, in the Hieroglyphics of Pierius, lib. Iv, that some of the ancients used to order, in their wills, that roses should be annually scattered on their tombs; and he has adduced some sepulchral inscriptions to this purpose.

And mocks the vestige of decay.] When he says that this flower prevails over time itself, he still alludes to its efficacy in embalment (tenera poneret ossa rosa. Propert. lib. i, eleg. 17), or perhaps to the subsequent idea of its fragrance surviving its beauty; for he can scarcely mean to praise for duration the « nimium breves fores » of the rose. Philostratus compares this flower with love, and says that they both defy the influence of time; χρονον δε ουτε Ερως, OUTE poox OLDEY. Unfortunately the similitude lies, not in their duration, but their transience.

Sweet as in youth, its balmy breath

Diffuses odour c'en in death.] Thus Caspar Barlæus, in his Ritus Nuptiarum:

Ambrosium late rosa tunc quoque spargit odorem,
Cum fuit, aut multo languida sole jacet.

Nor then the rose its odour loses,

When all its flushing beauties die;
Nor less ambrosial balm diffuses,
When wither'd by the solar eye!

With nectar drops, a ruby tide,

The sweetly orient buds they dyed, etc.] The author of the Pervigilium Veneris (a poem attributed to Catullus, the style of which appears to me to have all the laboured luxuriance of a much later period) ascribes the tincture of the rose to the blood from the wound

of Adonis:

rosa

Fuse aprino de cruore

according to the emendation of Lipsius. In the following epigram this hue is differently accounted for:

Illa quidem studiosa suum defendere Adonim,
Gradivus stricto quem petit ense ferox,
Affixit duris vestigia cæca rosetis,
Albaque divino picta cruore rosa est.

While the enamour'd queen of joy
Flies to protect her lovely boy,

On whom the jealous war-god rushes;
She treads upon a thorned rose,

And while the wound with crimson flows,

The snowy flow'ret feels her blood, and blushes!

ODE LVI.

HE, who instructs the youthful crew
To bathe them in the brimmer's dew,
And taste, uncloy'd by rich excesses,
All the bliss that wine possesses!
He, who inspires the youth to glance
In winged circlets through the dance!
Bacchus, the god, again is here,
And leads along the blushing year;
The blushing year with rapture teems,
Ready to shed those cordial streams
Which, sparkling in the cup of mirth,
Illuminate the sons of earth !
And when the ripe and vermil wine,
Sweet infant of the pregnant vine,
Which now in mellow clusters swells,
Oh! when it bursts its rosy cells,

The heavenly stream shall mantling flow,
To balsam every mortal woe!

No youth shall then be wan or weak,
For dimpling health shall light the cheek;
No heart shall then desponding sigh,
For wine shall bid despondence fly!
Thus till another autumn's glow
Shall bid another vintage flow!

ODE LVII.

AND whose immortal hand could shed
Upon this disk the ocean's bed?
And, in a frenzied flight of soul,
Sublime as Heaven's eternal pole,
Imagine thus, in semblance warm,
The Queen of Love's voluptuous form,

1. Compare with this elegant ode the verses of Cz, lib. i, die Weinlese. Degen.

This appears to be one of the hymns which were sung at the anniversary festival of the vintage; one of the ɛmiantot

vot, as our poet himself terms them in the fifty-ninth ode. We cannot belp feeling a peculiar veneration for these relics of the religion of antiquity. Horace may be supposed to have written the nineteenth ode of his second book, and the twenty-fifth of the third, for some bacchanalian celebration of this kind.

Which, sparkling in the cup of mirth.

Illuminate the sons of earth!] In the original TOTOY ASOVO XIutswr. Madame Dacier thinks that the poet here had the nepenthe of Homer in his mind. Odyssey, lib. iv. This nepenthe was a something of exquisite charm, infused by Helen into the wine of her guests, which bad the power of dispelling every anxiety. A French writer, with very elegant gallantry, conjectures that this spell, which made the bowl so beguiling, was the charm of Helen's conversation. See de Meré, quoted by Bayle, art. Helène.

This ode is a very animated description of a picture of Venus on a discus, which represented the goddess in her first emergence from the waves. About two centuries after our poet wrote, the pencil of the artist Apelles embellished this subject, in bis famous painting of the Venus Anadyomené, the model of which, as Pliny informs us. was the beautiful Campaspe, given to him by Alexander; though. according to Natalis Comes, lib. vii, cap. 16, it was Phryne who sat to Apelles for the face and breast of this Venus.

There are a few blemishes in the reading of the ode before us, which have influenced Faber, Heyne, Brunck, etc. to denounce the whole poem as spurious. Non ego paucis offendar maculis. I think it is beautiful enough to be authentic.

And whose immortal hand could shed

Upon this disk the ocean's bed?] The abruptness of apa Tls ToPEUGE TROYTOY, is finely expressive of sudden admiration, and is one of those beauties which we cannot but admire in their source, though, by frequent imitation, they are now become languid and impressive.

Floating along the silvery sea
In beauty's naked majesty?
Oh! he has given the raptured sight
A witching banquet of delight;
And all those sacred scenes of Love,
Where only hallowed eyes may rove,
Lie faintly glowing, half-conceal'd,

Within the lucid billows veil'd.
Light as the leaf that summer's breeze
Has wafted o'er the glassy seas,
She floats upon the ocean's breast,
Which undulates in sleepy rest,
And stealing on, she gently pillows
Her bosom on the amorous billows.
Her bosom, like the humid rose,
Her neck, like dewy-sparkling snows,
Illume the liquid path she traces,
And burn within the stream's embraces!
In languid luxury soft she glides,
Encircled by the azure tides,
Like some fair lily, faint with weeping,
Upon a bed of violets sleeping!
Beneath their queen's inspiring glance,
The dolphins o'er the green sea dance,
Bearing in triumph young Desire,
And baby Love with smiles of fire!
While, sparkling on the silver waves,
The tenants of the briny caves
Around the pomp in eddies play,
And gleam along the watery way.

ODE LVIII. ‹

WHEN gold, as fleet as Zephyr's pinion,
Escapes like any faithless minion,

And all those sacred scenes of love,

Where only hallow'd eyes may rove, etc.] The picture here has all the delicate character of the semi-reducta Venus, and is the sweetest emblem of what the poetry of passion ought to be,-glowing but through a veil, and stealing upon the heart from concealment. Few of the ancients have attained this modesty of description, which is like the golden cloud that hung over Jupiter and Juno, impervious to every beam but that of fancy.

Her bosom like the humid rose, etc.] 'Pode (says an anonymous annotator) is a whimsical epithet for the bosom. Neither Catullus nor Gray have been of his opinion. The former has the expression, En bic in roseis latet papillis.

And the latter,

Lo

where the rosy-bosom'd hours, etc.

Crottus, a modern Latinist, might indeed be censured for too vague an use of the epithet « rosy, when he applies it to the eyes: • eroseis oculis.»

the same deity with Jocus among the Romans. Aurelius Augurellus young Desire, etc.] In the original lupos, who was bas a poem beginning

Invitat olim Bacchus ad cœnam suos
Comon, Jocum, Cupidinem.

Which Parnell has closely imitated:

Gay Bacchus, liking Estcourt's wine,
A noble meal bespoke us;
And, for the guests that were to dine,
Brought Comus, Love, and Jocus, etc.

I have followed Barnes's arrangement of this ode, it deviates somewhat from the Vatican MS., but it appeared to me the more natural order.

When goid, as fleet as Zephyr's pinton,

Escapes like any faithless minion, etc.). In the original O opamatas o xpucos. There is a kind of pun in these words, as

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And flies me (as he flies me ever),
Do I pursue him? never, never!
No, let the false deserter go,

For who would court his direst foe?
But, when I feel my lighten'd mind
No more by ties of gold confined,
I loosen all my clinging cares,

And cast them to the vagrant airs.
Then, then I feel the Muse's spell,
And wake to life the dulcet shell;
The dulcet shell to beauty sings,
And love dissolves along the strings!
Thus, when my heart is sweetly taught
How little gold deserves a thought,
The winged slave returns once more,
And with him wafts delicious store
Of racy wine, whose balmy art
In slumber seals the anxious heart!
Again he tries my soul to sever

From love and song, perhaps for ever!
Away, deceiver! why pursuing
Ceaseless thus my heart's undoing?
Sweet is the song of amorous fire;
Sweet are the sighs that thrill the lyre;
Oh! sweeter far than all the gold
The waftage of thy wings can hold.
I well remember all thy wiles,
They wither'd Cupid's flowery smiles,
And o'er his harp such garbage shed,
I thought its angel breath was fled!
They tainted all his bowl of blisses,
His bland desires and hallow'd kisses.
Oh! fly to haunts of sordid men,

But rove not near the bard again;

Madame Dacier has already remarked; for Chrysos, which signifies gold, was also a frequent name for a slave. In one of Lucian's dialogues, there is, I think, a similar play upon the word, where the followers of Chrysippus are called golden tishes. The puns of the ancients are, in general, even more vapid than our own; some of the best are those recorded of Diogenes.

And flies me (as he flies me ever), etc.] Aɛtd, at μe pevyel. This grace of iteration has already been taken notice of. Though sometimes merely a playful beauty, it is peculiarly expressive of impassioned sentiment, and we may easily believe that it was one of the many sources of that energetic sensibility which breathed through the style of Sappho. See Gyrald. Vet. Poet. Dial. 9. It will not be said that this is a mechanical ornament by any one who can feel its charm in these lines of Catullus, where he complains of the infidelity of bis mistress, Lesbia.

Coli, Lesbia nostra, Lesbia illa,

Illa Lesbia, quam Catullus unam,

Plus quam se atque suos amavit omnes,
Nanc, etc.

Si sic omnia dixisset! but the rest does not bear citation.

They tainted all his bowl of blisses,

His bland desires and hallow'd kisses.] Original:

Φιληματων δε κείνων,

Παθών κύπελλα κίρνης.

Horace has Desiderique temperare poculum, not figuratively, however, like Anacreon, but importing the love-philtres of the witches. By cups of kisses our poet may allude to a favourite gallantry among the ancients, of drinking when the lips of their mis

tresses had touched the brim:

Or leave a kiss within the cup,

And I'll not ask for wine,

as in Ben Jonson's translation from Philostratus; and Lucian has a conceit upon the same idea, 12 21 75 apa xai pigs, that you may at once both drink and kiss."

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SABLED by the solar beam,
Now the fiery clusters teem,
In osier baskets, borne along
By all the festal vintage throng
Of rosy youths and virgins fair,
Ripe as the melting fruits they bear.
Now, now they press the pregnant grapes,
And now the captive stream escapes,
In fervid tide of nectar gushing,
And for its bondage proudly blushing!
While, round the vat's impurpled brim,
The choral song, the vintage hymn
Of rosy youths and virgins fair,
Steals on the cloy'd and panting air.
Mark, how they drink, with all their eyes,
The orient tide that sparkling flies;
The infant balm of all their fears,
The infant Bacchus, born in tears!
When he, whose verging years decline
As deep into the vale as mine,
When he inhales the vintage-spring,
His heart is fire, his foot's a wing;
And, as he flies, his hoary hair
Plays truant with the wanton air!
While the warm youth, whose wishing soul
Has kindled o'er the inspiring bowl,
Impassion'd seeks the shadowy grove,
Where, in the tempting guise of love,
Reclining sleeps some witching maid,
Whose sunny charms, but half display'd,
Blush through the bower, that, closely twined,
Excludes the kisses of the wind!

The virgin wakes, the glowing boy
Allures her to the embrace of joy;
Swears that the herbage Heaven had spread
Was sacred as the nuptial bed;

1 The title Επιληνιος ύμνος, which Barnes has given to this ode, is by no means appropriate. We have already had one of those hymns (ode 56), but this is a description of the vintage; and the title Ets oto, which it bears in the Vatican MS., is more correct than any that have been suggested.

Degen, in the true spirit of literary scepticism, doubts that this ode is genuine, without assigning any reason for such a suspicion. «Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possam dicere quare; but this is far from satisfactory criticism.

Swears that the herbage Heaven had spread,

as sacred as the nuptial bed, etc.] The original here has been variously interpreted. Some, in their zeal for our author's purity, have supposed that the youth only persuades her to a premature marriage; others understand from the words podoτiv yapov yevecht, that be seduces her to a violation of the nuptial vow. The turn which I have given it is somewhat like the sentiment of Heloisa, conjugio, libertatem vincolo præferre. (See her original Letters.) The Italian translations bave almost all wantoned upon this description: but that of Marchetti is indeed nimium lubricus aspici."

amorem

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