Poems by Anacreon

Poems by Anacreon

They Tell How Atys, Wild With Love, by Anacreon

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

Thou, Whose Soft and Rosy Hues, by Anacreon

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

Upon Cupid, by Anacreon

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

The Vain Advice, by Anacreon

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

The Vintage, by Anacreon

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

Vulcan! Hear Your Glorious Task, by Anacreon

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

Wine and Song, by Anacreon

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

Wine the Healer, by Anacreon

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

The Women Tell Me Every Day, by Anacreon

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

And Now With All Thy Pencil's Truth, by Anacreon

And now with all thy pencil's truth,
Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth!
Let his hair, in lapse...

As Late I Sought the Spangled Bowers, by Anacreon

As late I sought the spangled bowers,
To cull a wreath of matin flowers,
Where many an early ...

Beauty, by Anacreon

Horns to bulls wise Nature lends;
Horses she with hoofs defends;
Hares with nimble feet relie...

The Bee, by Anacreon

Love, a Bee that lurk'd among
Roses saw not, and was stung:
Who for his hurt finger crying, ...

The Bowl of Song, by Anacreon

Sweet the song Anacreon sings,
Sweet notes flow from Sappho's strings:
Pindar's strains, the...

Count Me, on the Summer Trees, by Anacreon

Count me, on the summer trees,
Every leaf that courts the breeze;
Count me, on the foamy de...