Gives me wealthy Croesus' store, I would spurn them all away! To fall in banquet than in war! Ivy leaves my brow entwining, etc.] "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. Arm you, arm you, men of might, Hasten to the sanguine fight;] I have adopted the interpretation of Regnier and others: Altri segua Marte fero; Che sol Bacco è 'l mio conforto. ODE XLIX.* WHEN Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, Who, with the sunshine of the bowl, When to my inmost core he glides, Fires my brain, and wings my feet! Nay, something heavenly sweet, to drink! * 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. Who, with the sunshine of the bowl, Thaws the winter of our soul.] Avalos is the title which he gives to Bacchus in the original. It is a curious circumstance, that Plutarch mistook the name of Levi among the Jews for Atv (one of the bacchanal cries), and accordingly supposed that they worshipped Bacchus. Sing, sing of love, let Music's breath ODE L.* WHEN I drink, I feel, I feel, * 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 remarkable. It is a kind of song of seven quatrain stanzas, each beginning with the line Οτ' εγω πιω τον οίνον. The first stanza alone is incomplete, consisting but of three lines. Compare with this poem (says Degen) the verses of Hagedorn, lib. v. der Wein, where that divine poet has wantoned in the praises of wine." When I drink, I feel, I feel, Visions of poetic zeal!] "Anacreon is not the only one (says Longepierre) whom wine has inspired with poetry. Warm with the goblet's freshening dews When I drink, my sorrow's o'er ; I think of doubts and fears no more; Each gloomy phantom of the mind! And, while we dance through breathing bowers Whose every gale is rich with flowers, There is an epigram in the first book of the Anthologia, which begins thus: Οινος τοι χαριεντι μέγας πελει ίππος αοιδώ, " If with water you fill up your glasses, Which hurries a bard to the skies! And, while we dance through breathing bowers, etc.] If some of the translators had observed Doctor Trapp's caution, with regard to πολυανθεσιν μ' εν αυραις, "Cave ne cœlum intelligas," they would not have spoiled the simplicity of Anacreon's fancy, by such extravagant conceptions of the passage. Could our poet imagine such bombast as the following? Quand je bois, mon œil s'imagine Que, dans un tourbillon plein de parfums divers, Rempli de sa liqueur divine. Or this: In bowls he makes my senses swim, Till the gale breathes of nought but him ! Flowers, begemm'd with tears of wine; How sweet it is to live at rest! Rises in the genial flow That none but social spirits know, When youthful revellers, round the bowl, Indi mi mena Mentre lietro ebro deliro Baccho in giro Per la vaga aura serena. When youthful revellers, round the bowl, Dilating, mingle soul with soul!] Subjoined to Gail's |