Anacreon

Anacreon (582 BC – 485 BC) was a Greek lyric poet, notable for his drinking songs and hymns.

Quotes


To-morrow who can tell. What's to-morrow who can say?
 * To-day belongs to me,
 * Odes, VIII. (VIL), 9.
 * Variant translation:
 * All my care is for to-day;
 * Thomas Stanley, Anacreon, Ode XV.


 * Persuasion's flowing well.
 * Odes, XVIII., 18 (6).

The trees drink up the earth. The sea the torrents drinks, the sun the sea, And the moon drinks the sun. Why, comrades, do ye flout me, If I, too, wish to drink? Trees from earth drink that again; The sea too drinks the air, the sun Drinks the sea, and him the moon. Is it reason, then, do ye think, That I should thirst when all else drink?
 * The black earth drinks, in turn
 * Odes, 21.
 * Variant translation:
 * Fruitful earth drinks up the rain,
 * Thomas Stanley, Anacreon, Ode XIX.

Hoofs gave she to the horse. To the lion cavernous jaws, And swiftness to the hare. The fish taught she to swim, The bird to cleave the air; To man she reason gave; Not yet was woman dowered. What, then, to woman gave she? The priceless gift of beauty. Stronger than any buckler, Than any spear more piercing, Who hath the gift of beauty, Nor fire nor steel shall harm her. The horse his hoofs, to daunt their foes; The light-foot hare the hunter scorns; The lion's teeth his strength disclose. The fish, by swimming, 'scapes the weel; The bird, by flight, the fowler's net; With wisdom man is arm'd as steel; Poor women none of these can get. What have they then?—fair Beauty's grace, A two-edged sword, a trusty shield; No force resists a lovely face, Both fire and sword to Beauty yield.
 * Nature gave horns to the bull,
 * Odes, XXIV.
 * Variant translation:
 * The bull by nature hath his horns,
 * "A. W." (anonymous translator), in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, Ode II.

And cruel not to love, But cruelest of all To love and love in vain.
 * Ah, cruel 'tis to love,
 * Odes, XXIX. (XXVII.), 1.

Tramples wisdom under foot, Worth derides, and only looks For money.
 * Love for lineage nothing cares,
 * Odes, XXIX. (XXVIL, b), 5.

Who's enslaved by love of money. Money takes the place of brothers, Money takes the place of parents, Money brings us war and slaughter.
 * Cursed be he above all others
 * Odes, XXIX. (XXVIL, b), 8.

Life to mortals is obscure.
 * Whence can we the future learn?
 * Odes, XXXVIII. (XXXVL), 19.

His locks with age are grey, But he's a child in mind.
 * But when an old man dances,
 * Odes, XXXIX. (XXXVII), 3.


 * I fled the headless darts of slanderous tongue.
 * Odes, XLII. (XL.), 11.

Why stray I thus through life?
 * E'en though I would not, die I must;
 * XLV. (XLIII.), 5.


 * And last of all comes death.
 * Odes, L. (XL VIII.), 28.

Quotes about Anacreon
His silver tresses breathe perfume, His cheek displays a second spring Of roses, taught by wine to bloom. Away, deceitful cares, away! And let me listen to his lay; While flowery dreams my soul employ; While turtle-wing'd the laughing hours, Lead hand in hand the festal powers, Lead youth and love, and harmless joy.
 * I see Anacreon smile and sing;
 * Mark Akenside, Ode on Lyric Poetry (1745), st. 2.

Let ivy wreath, let flow'rets deck the ground, And from its earth, enrich'd by such a prize, Let wells of milk and streams of wine arise: So will thine ashes yet a pleasure know, If any pleasure reach the shades below.
 * This tomb be thine, Anacreon; all around
 * Antipater of Sidon, On Anacreon (Jacobs II. 26, lxxii.), as translated in The Spectator, No. 551 (December 2, 1712).

Than the downy feathers are Of my wings, or of my arrows, Of my mother's doves or sparrows. Sweet as lovers' freshest kisses, Or their riper following blisses, Graceful, cleanly, smooth, and round, All with Venus girdle bound.
 * All thy verse is softer far
 * Abraham Cowley, Elegy upon Anacreon {Spoken by the God of Love} (1656), lines 11–18.

Does on the best of mankind wait. Poets or lovers let them be, 'Tis neither love nor poesy Can arm against death's smallest dart The poet's head, or lover's heart. For when their life in its decline Touches th' inevitable line, All the world's mortal to 'em then, And wine is aconite to men. Nay, in death's hand the grape-stone proves Fatal as thunder is in Jove's.
 * It grieves me when I see what fate
 * Abraham Cowley, Elegy upon Anacreon {Who was choaked by a Grape-Stone} (1656), lines 105–116.

delevit aetas.'' Still lives, in spite of time's destructive sway.
 * ''Nec si quid olim lusit Anacreon,
 * blithe Anacreon's sportive lay
 * Horace, Carmina, Book IV (13 BC), Ode 9, lines 9–10 (tr. Duncombe).

Anacreon [blithe] the sprightly lyre essay'd, In light fantastic measures beat the ground, Or dealt the mirth-inspiring juice around: No care, no thought, the tuneful Teian knew, But mark'd with bliss each moment as it flew.
 * With roses crown'd, on flowers supinely laid,
 * Judith Madan, The Progress of Poetry (1721), lines 67–72.