Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XIV.

[1]     Count me, on the summer trees,     Every leaf that courts the breeze;     Count me, on the foamy deep,     Every wave that sinks to sleep;     Then, when you have numbered these     Billowy tides and leafy trees,     Count me all the flames I prove,     All the gentle nymphs I love.     First, of pure Athenian maids     Sporting in their olive shades,     You may reckon just a score,     Nay, I'll grant you fifteen more.     In the famed Corinthian grove,     Where such countless wantons rove,[2]     Chains of beauties may be found,     Chains, by which my heart is bound;     There, indeed, are nymphs divine,     Dangerous to a soul like mine.     Many bloom in Lesbos' isle;     Many in Ionia smile;     Rhodes a pretty swarm can boast;     Caria too contains a host.     Sum them all--of brown and fair     You may count two thousand there.     What, you stare? I pray you peace!     More I'll find before I cease.     Have I told you all my flames,     'Mong the amorous Syrian dames?     Have I numbered every one,     Glowing under Egypt's sun?     Or the nymphs, who blushing sweet     Deck the shrine of Love in Crete;     Where the God, with festal play,     Holds eternal holiday?     Still in clusters, still remain     Gades' warm, desiring train:[3]     Still there lies a myriad more     On the sable India's shore;     These, and many far removed,     All are loving--all are loved!