Odes of Anacreon - Ode 11

ODE XI.

" Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee,
What in purchase shall I pay thee
For this little waxen toy,
Image of the Paphian boy? "
Thus I said, the other day.
To a youth who past my way:
" Sir, " (he answered, and the while
Answered all in Doric style,)
" Take it, for a trifle take it;
'Twas not I who dared to make it;
No, believe me, 't was not I;
Oh, it has cost me many a sigh,
And I can no longer keep
Little Gods, who murder sleep! "
" Here, then, here, " (I said with joy,)
" Here is silver for the boy;
He shall be my bosom guest,
Idol of my pious breast! "

Now young Love, I have thee mine,
Warm me with that torch of thine;
Make me feel as I have felt,
Or thy waxen frame shall melt:
I must burn with warm desire,
Or thou, my boy — in yonder fire.
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Anacreon
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