From the Greek
A Translation of the Forty-eighth Ode of Anacreon
Give me Homer’s golden lyre
But without it’s sanguine string
From the altar’s holy fire
Here the foaming goblet bring.
Then I’ll mix the rosy wine
All it’s dictates then obey
With the laughing chorus join
And with temper’d madness play.
Singing to my sounding shell
I’ll it’s chearful chords explore
Chords from which none else so well
The strains by wine inspir’d can pour.
May 7th 1806