Poems by Anacreon

The women tell me every day
That all my bloom has past away.
"Behold, " the pretty wantons cry,...

They tell how Atys, wild with love,
Roams the mount and haunted grove;
Cybele's name he howl...

Thou, whose soft and rosy hues
Mimic form and soul infuse;
Best of painters! Come portray
Th...

As lately I a garland bound,
'Mongst roses I there Cupid found;
I took him, put him in my cu...

Prythee trouble me no more;
I will drink, be mad, and roar:
Alcmæ on and Orestes grew...

Vulcan! Hear your glorious task;
I do not from your labours ask
In gorgeous panoply to shine, ...

Bring me hither Homer's lute,
Taught with mirth (not wars) to suit;
Reach a full cup, that I...

Who his cups can stoutly bear,
In his cups despiseth fear,
In his cups can nimbly dance,
Hi...

Men and maids at time of year
The ripe clusters jointly bear
To the press, but in when thrown,...

Whilst our joys with wine we raise,
Youthful Bacchus we will praise.
Bacchus dancing did inven...

The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm,
Was once a weeping matron's form;
And Progne, hap...

On this verdant lotus laid,
Underneath the myrtle's shade,
Let us drink our sorrows dead,
W...

Observe when mother earth is dry,
She drinks the droppings of the sky;
And then the dewy cord...

Though my aged head be grey,
And thy youth more fresh than May,
Fly me not; oh! Rather see
I...

One day, the Muses twin'd the hands
Of baby Love, with flow'ry bands;
And to celestial Beaut...