Classic Poem

With roses and myrtle my brow be arrayed hence,
Bind the bright fillet band, young men and maidens;
Sing to me! dance to me! mingle together
Lips full of melody, feet like a feather!
Accents of jubilee—visions to fire me,
Grant me, Anacreon!—Pindar inspire me!
Let the verse flow from my lips' severed portals,
Sweet as the nectar that cheers the immortals!
Since Amaryllis, my joy and my treasure,
The light of my eye, and my heart's only pleasure,—
She who was hither to coy and disdainful,
Mocked at my sufferings ever so painful,—
Vainly, in weeping, I knelt to adore her,—
Oh! what a happy change now has come o'er her!
Lately she said what my bosom entrances,
'd on my face were her innocent glances—

If thou dost love me well, know I am feeling
Love in my heart for thee, silently stealing;”
Then my long torments of sighing and sorrow
Fled at her words like the night from the morrow!
And from her sphere on high, silver beams scattering,
Venus look'd down on me, all my hopes flattering!
Then from my tranquil mind fled all annoyance,
Happy my heart became, boundless its joyance;
Brighter the day in its sunny zone bound me!
Sweeter the common air wanton'd around me!
Thus the few moments can banish the fears,
And dry up the eyes that were weeping for years,
And as in the day fades the night's pallid crescent,
So the memory of pain in the joy of the present!
But since, Amaryllis, I know that thou art
The light of my eye and the joy of my heart,
I fear not the whirlwinds of fate hanging o'er,
Nor the shadows of gloom on Death's terrible shore.
Let me pass, kind gods, through life's calm ways,
With my sweet Amaryllis, my tranquil days.
No boon but this only I ask you to grant,
No more do I sigh for, no more do I want;
For never a moment my bosom sighed
For the empty pageants of pomp and pride,
Nor brilliant dreams has my fancy scann'd
Of the gems and gold of the Indian land!
Let fair Adonis have Venus bright,
And the Latmian Boy the Queen of Night;
And Phrygian Paris I envy not
The lovely Helen so dearly bought;
Oh! not for a thousand nymphs divine,
Would I change, Amaryllis, one glance of thine;
Sweet as the nectar that Venus sips,
Do thy praises fall from my rapid lips!
Oh! ye bright spirits of woods and vales,
Gentle zephyrs, and balmy gales,
Stay! oh stay! your tremulous flight,
And list to my song of strong delight!
Ye birds that sing on the summer bough,
Ye murmuring streams, be silent now!
That my verse may fall from my rapid lips
Sweet as the nectar that Venus sips!
Love does not hold in his realm divine
A happier heart than this of mine!
Content doth fill it so full and well,
That pain can never within it dwell.
Oh! happy the life that in love I lead,
And pleasant the flames on my heart that feed!
Oh! Amaryllis, a charm there lies
In the tremulous depths of thy laughing eyes;
On my bosom falls their gentle light,
Filling it all with a calm delight.
From thee alone the rapture flows,
The strong delight, that my bosom knows!
For this I will learn what life can give,
For this I will think it a joy to live;
And ye, who on love attentive wait,
Who hear the song of my happy fate,
Since Amaryllis has laid aside
Her scornful air and her look of pride,
Graceful youths and maidens fair,
With myrtle and rose come bind my hair;
Let the envious slaves of love revere
In me a being to Venus dear;
And, ye lovers, learn this truth from me—
True love will ever a victor be!