Horace To Pyrrha

What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah,
With smiles for diet,
Clasps you, O fair but faithless Pyrrha,
On the quiet?
For whom do you bind up your tresses,
As spun-gold yellow,--
Meshes that go, with your caresses,
To snare a fellow?

How will he rail at fate capricious,
And curse you duly!
Yet now he deems your wiles delicious,
You perfect, truly!
Pyrrha, your love's a treacherous ocean;
He'll soon fall in there!
Then shall I gloat on his commotion,
For I have been there!

Eugene Field

Eugene Field was an American writer, best known for his children's poetry and humorous essays. Born in St. Louis, Missouri, he was known as the 'Poet of Childhood' due to his well-loved poems for children. After his mother's death in 1856, he was raised by a cousin in Amherst, Massachusetts. Field studied at several universities but never graduated. His most famous poems include 'Wynken, Blynken, and Nod' and 'The Duel.' Field worked as a journalist and editor in various cities, including Chicago, where he spent the last years of his life.

Eugene Field

Mary Smith

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Eugene Field, Simple Poetry

English

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To Mistress Pyrrha I

What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah,
With smiles for diet,
Clasps you, O fair but faithless Pyrrha,
On the quiet?
For whom do you bind up your tresses,
As spun-gold yellow,--
Meshes that go with your caresses,
To snare a fellow?

How will he rail at fate capricious,
And curse you duly,
Yet now he deems your wiles delicious,--
You perfect, truly!
Pyrrha, your love's a treacherous ocean;
He'll soon fall in there!
Then shall I gloat on his commotion,
For I have been there!

Eugene Field

To Mistress Pyrrha II

What dainty boy with sweet perfumes bedewed
Has lavished kisses, Pyrrha, in the cave?
For whom amid the roses, many-hued,
Do you bind back your tresses' yellow wave?

How oft will he deplore your fickle whim,
And wonder at the storm and roughening deeps,
Who now enjoys you, all in all to him,
And dreams of you, whose only thoughts he keeps.

Wretched are they to whom you seem so fair;--
That I escaped the storms, the gods be praised!
My dripping garments, offered with a prayer,
Stand as a tablet to the sea-god raised.

Eugene Field

Odes From Horace. - To Pyrrha. Book The First, Ode The Fifth.

Where roses flaunt beneath some pleasant cave,
    Too charming Pyrrha, what enamour'd Boy,
Whose shining locks the breathing odors lave,
    Woos thee, exulting in a transient joy?
For whom the simple band dost thou prepare,
That lightly fastens back thy golden hair?

Alas! how soon shall this devoted Youth
    Love's tyrant sway, and thy chang'd eyes deplore,
Indignant curse thy violated truth,
    And count each broken promise o'er and o'er,
Who hopes to meet, unconscious of thy wiles,
Looks ever vacant, ever facile smiles!

He, inexperienc'd Mariner! shall gaze
    In wild amazement on the stormy deep,
Recall the flattery of those sunny days,
    That lull'd each ruder wind to calmest sleep.
'T was then, with jocund hope, he spread the sail,

Anna Seward

Horace To Phyllis

Come, Phyllis, I've a cask of wine
That fairly reeks with precious juices,
And in your tresses you shall twine
The loveliest flowers this vale produces.

My cottage wears a gracious smile,--
The altar, decked in floral glory,
Yearns for the lamb which bleats the while
As though it pined for honors gory.

Hither our neighbors nimbly fare,--
The boys agog, the maidens snickering;
And savory smells possess the air
As skyward kitchen flames are flickering.

You ask what means this grand display,
This festive throng, and goodly diet?
Well, since you're bound to have your way,
I don't mind telling, on the quiet.

'Tis April 13, as you know,--
A day and month devote to Venus,
Whereon was born, some years ago,
My very worthy friend M...

Eugene Field

The Reconciliation II

HORACE

While favored by thy smiles no other youth in amorous teasing
Around thy snowy neck his folding arms was wont to fling;
As long as I remained your love, acceptable and pleasing,
I lived a life of happiness beyond the Persian king.

LYDIA

While Lydia ranked Chloe in your unreserved opinion,
And for no other cherished thou a brighter, livelier flame,
I, Lydia, distinguished throughout the whole dominion,
Surpassed the Roman Ilia in eminence of fame.

HORACE

'T is now the Thracian Chloe whose accomplishments inthrall me,--
So sweet in modulations, such a mistress of the lyre.
In truth the fates, however terrible, could not appall me;
If they would spare her, sweet my soul, I gladly would expire.

LYDIA

And now the son...

Eugene Field

Horace IV, II.

Come, Phyllis, I've a cask of wine
That fairly reeks with precious juices.
And in your tresses you shall twine
The loveliest flowers this vale produces.

My cottage wears a gracious smile--
The altar decked in floral glory,--
Yearns for the lamb which bleats the while
As though it pined for honors gory.

Hither our neighbors nimbly fare--
The boys agog, the maidens snickering,
And savory smells possess the air
As skyward kitchen flames are flickering.

You ask what means this grand display,
This festive throng and goodly diet?
Well--since you're bound to have your way--
I don't mind telling on the quiet.

'Tis April 13, as you know--
A day and month devote to Venus,
Whereon was born some years ago,
My very worthy friend, Mace...

Eugene Field