Archive for June 8th, 2013

Saturday, 8 June 2013

Ode to Pleasure by Thomas Warton (the Younger)

Sister of Youth and laughing Joy,
Sweet PLEASURE, Sorrow-soothing Queen,
Daughter of Venus, ever young,
And Bacchus wreath’d with Ivy green;
Whom on their Laps the rosy-bosom’d Hours,
And all the Graces nurst beneath Idalian Bow’rs.

O lead me to thy blissful Vale!
Where Hope and Health in sprightly Round,
Leisure with Freedom Hand in Hand,
In Dance fantastic beat the Ground;
Where’er they tread while fairest Flowers arise,
Embroid’ring all the Green with ever-varying Dies.

Let the stern Pedant love to waste
In studious Search the tedious Night,
Attentive to the learned Page,
By musing Taper’s glimmering Light,
Whose pensive Ear no wakeful Sounds alarm,
Save the lone Owl, slow Clock, or Bell-man’s drowsy Charm.

Me let the chearful Dance engage,
Swift-urg’d along the lighted Dome;
While with new Warmth the Virgin glows,
Her Cheek all flush’d with fresher Bloom;
Motion and Musick tend’rest Thoughts inspire,
And all her yielding Soul relents to soft Desire.

Let the sage Hermit shun Mankind,
With pale-ey’d Penitence to dwell,
To freeze at Midnight Hours of Pray’r
Within a solitary Cell;
Penurious on the verdant Herb to sup,
And of the chilling Stream to drain the Beechen Cup.

Be mine, amid the social Band,
The Raptures of Champaign to taste,
Whose vig’rous Juice new Relish gives
To mutual Converse, Reason’s Feast,
While old Anacreon seems to rise, and say,
“Begone, ye Toils of Life; ye busy Cares, away!”


Date: 1746

By: Thomas Warton (the Younger) (1728-1790)