Anacreontic
Thomas Oldham 1816 (Dublin,) – 1878 (Rugby, )
Let us, my Friends, our mirth forbear,
While yonder Censor mounts the chair:
His form erect, his stately pace,
His huge, white wig, his solemn face,
His scowling brows, his ken severe,
His haughty pleasure-chiding sneer,
Some high Philosopher declare:
Hush! let us hear him from the chair:
'Ye giddy youths! I hate your mirth;
How ill-beseeming sons of earth!
Know ye not well the fate of man?
That death is certain, life a span?
That merriment soon sinks in sorrow,
Sunshine to-day, and clouds to-morrow?
Hearken then, fools! to Reason's voice,
That bids ye mourn, and not rejoice?'
Such gloomy thoughts, grave Sage! are thine,
Now, gentle Friends! attend to mine.
Since mortals must die,
Since life's but a span,
'Tis wisdom, say I,
To live while we can,
And fill up with pleasure
The poor little measure.
Of fate to complain
How simple and vain!
Long faces I hate;
They shorten the date.
My Friends! while ye may,
Be jovial to-day;
The things that will be
Ne'er wish to foresee;
Or, should ye employ
Your thoughts on to-morrow,
Let Hope sing of joy,
Not Fear croak of sorrow.
But see! the Sage flies, so no more.
Now, Friends! drink and sing, as before.
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Submitted on August 03, 2020
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:03 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABBAAAA CCDDAAEE FFGDGDAAHHIIJJKKLALAAA |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 1,127 |
Words | 208 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 22 |
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"Anacreontic" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 9 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/56788/anacreontic>.
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