Anacreontic Ode

Ho! Bring me wine, and to the gods be drain'd the bowl!

I would fain be filled with the frenzy of wine,

Yea, be mad, mad with wine!

Madness fell on Orestes, youth white of foot,

Whose hand, like unto Alcmaeons, with a mother's blood was stained,

But I whose hand shed the blood of no man. Of no man.

I will drink 'till madness shall seize me,

Madness begot of good wine, Ho! Wine! For I will drink

unto the gods, drink unto the gods till I be mad, yea! mad with wine!

Once in the days of yore, Hercules possessed

Made all hearts to quake, quake for fear,

With the bow and the quiver of war-like young Iphitus,

With the quiver of Iphitus, of young Iphitus the war-like!

Thus too did Ajax, Ajax infuriate, madly storm and rage,

With shield held aloft, his mighty shield of seven hides.

While the sword of great Hector he swung, madly raging.

And I, my brow crown'd with flow'rs, girt not with buckler and sword, but cup in hand,

I fain would be mad with the frenzy of wine, yea, drink till mad with wine – then fill the bowl, for drain it I will!

Ho there! Wine, bring me wine, and to the gods this cup I drain!