Anacreon (570 BC – 488 BC)
Mingle, My Boy, a Little Draught for Me
Mingle, my boy, a little draught for me
In such wise, now, as I shall tell to thee.
First, mark my words, into this goblet run
A little of that old Anacreon.
Now take that slender flagon over there-
'Tis Sapho's own, no better anywhere-
And pour into the glass to give it strength
Just about half your little finger's length.
'There now, my master, surely it will do:'
Nay, boy, not yet; a little Pindar too.
There, there. 'tis full, the glass o'erflows the crown;
Just hand it me and I will drink it down.
Methinks Apollo, should he chance to come
Upon me now, would say, 'Just mix me some
Of that same brew I see you tippling there'.
Or if the Paphian maid should this way fare
With Eros, her companion, wandering free,
They both would cry, 'Ho, Servus, make it three.'
Comments about this poem (Mingle, My Boy, a Little Draught for Me by Anacreon )
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