From Anacreon

I

In sooth I'd with pleasure rehearse
The Atridae and Cadmus's fame,
If my lute would accord to my verse
And sound aught but Venus's name.

'Twas in vain that I changed each string
To alter its amorous tone,
And began of Alcides to sing:
My lute warbled Venus alone.

I therefore my strains must renew
And accord to the lays of my lute;
So, ye Heroes, for ever adieu!
Love alone is the theme that can suit.

II

Anacreon, the ladies say
Your pate is bald, your beard is gray!
Take you a looking-glass — forsooth,
You'll find that what they say is truth.
But whether it be truth or not,
As little do I care as wot;
But this I know — 'tis best to rime
Thus o'er my jokes while suits the time.
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