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Literary
May 21, 1807
The Wheeling Repository
Wheeling, Ohio County, West Virginia
What is this article about?
Mr. Armstrong introduces a rare melancholy ode by Anacreon, depicting the loss of youth's joys, the onset of aging, and the sorrow of impending death in the underworld.
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OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
MR. ARMSTRONG,
SIR--The following ode of Anacreon, the only one of a melancholy cast handed down to us as the production of that poet, delineates so faithfully the instability and uncertainty of human enjoyments, that it cannot fail to be acceptable to every description of readers.
'Golden hues of youth are fled;
Hoary locks deform my head;
Bloomy graces, dalliance gay,
All the flowers of life, decay.
Withering age begins to trace
Sad memorials o'er my face.
Time has shed its sweetest bloom:
All the future must be gloom!
This awakes my hourly sighing:--
Dreary is the thought of dying!
Pluto's is a dark abode;
Sad the journey! sad the road!
And the gloomy travel o'er,
Ah! we can return no more!'
SIR--The following ode of Anacreon, the only one of a melancholy cast handed down to us as the production of that poet, delineates so faithfully the instability and uncertainty of human enjoyments, that it cannot fail to be acceptable to every description of readers.
'Golden hues of youth are fled;
Hoary locks deform my head;
Bloomy graces, dalliance gay,
All the flowers of life, decay.
Withering age begins to trace
Sad memorials o'er my face.
Time has shed its sweetest bloom:
All the future must be gloom!
This awakes my hourly sighing:--
Dreary is the thought of dying!
Pluto's is a dark abode;
Sad the journey! sad the road!
And the gloomy travel o'er,
Ah! we can return no more!'
What sub-type of article is it?
Poem
Elegy
What themes does it cover?
Death Mortality
What keywords are associated?
Anacreon Ode
Melancholy
Aging
Death
Transience
What entities or persons were involved?
Anacreon
Literary Details
Author
Anacreon
Subject
Instability And Uncertainty Of Human Enjoyments
Form / Style
Melancholy Ode In Verse
Key Lines
Golden Hues Of Youth Are Fled;
Hoary Locks Deform My Head;
Bloomy Graces, Dalliance Gay,
All The Flowers Of Life, Decay.
Withering Age Begins To Trace
Sad Memorials O'er My Face.
Time Has Shed Its Sweetest Bloom:
All The Future Must Be Gloom!
This Awakes My Hourly Sighing:
Dreary Is The Thought Of Dying!
Pluto's Is A Dark Abode;
Sad The Journey! Sad The Road!
And The Gloomy Travel O'er,
Ah! We Can Return No More!'