The loves of hero and leander :: :: University of Virginia Library

Tell me, pray, my pretty dove!
Tell me, lovely scout of love!
Whence, and whither, dost thou fly,
Sweets-distilling, thro' the sky?
Whence, and whither, do'st thou go?
Tell me, for I fain wou'd know.

Stranger, if thou fain wou'dst know,
I to fair Bathyllus go;
Charming boy! whose haughty sway
All implicity obey.
To Anacreon I belong,
Giv'n by Venus for a song.

Hence I serve, a faithful dove,
All his embassies of love.
Who for this, that here you see,
Gave his word to set me free.

But what joy can that afford?
(Shou'd Anacreon keep his word!)
Here and there to roam at will,
Over mead, or over hill?
Or to perch in lonely wood!
Trusting chance for rustick food?
When I now am daily fed,
With my master's purest bread;
Daily in his goblet join,
(Heav'nly draught!) of purest wine.
Feeding now, perhaps, I stand,
Gently-cooing, on his hand.
Drinking now my wings I spread,
Fondly-flutring, o'er his head;
Or, with downy sleep possest,
On his lyre repose to rest;

Now thou dost my business know,
Where I come, and whither go,
Curious stranger, speed thy way!
Thou'st made me prate like any jay.

The Letter.