To Anacreon in Heaven

To Anacreon in Heaven ist der Beginn des ersten Verses des The Anacreontic Song.


Dieses Lied war die Hymne der Anacreontic Society im London des 18. Jahrhunderts. Die Melodie von John Stafford Smith (1750–1836) ist – bis auf geringfügige Änderungen – identisch mit derjenigen der Nationalhymne der Vereinigten Staaten. Die Hymne wurde innerhalb der Gesellschaft von 1772 bis 1792 als Trinklied gesungen[1]. Ihr Inhalt stellt eine Huldigung des Dichters Anakreon und an seinen baccantischen Stil dar.


To Anacreon in Heav'n,
Where he sat in full glee,
A few Sons of Harmony
Sent a petition
That he their Inspirer
And Patron would be;
When this answer arrived
From the Jolly Old Grecian:
"Voice, Fiddle, and Flute,
No longer be mute,
I'll lend you my name
And inspire you to boot,
And besides I'll instruct you,
Like me, to intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine."
The news through Olympus
Immediately flew;
When Old Thunder pretended
To give himself airs.
"If these Mortals are suffered
Their scheme to pursue,
The devil a Goddess,
Will stay above stairs.
Hark, already they cry,
In transports of joy,
'Away to the Sons
Of Anacreon we'll fly,
And there with good fellows,
We'll learn to intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine.'
The Yellow-Haired God
And his nine fusty Maids
From Helicon's banks
Will incontinent flee,
Idalia will boast
But of tenantless shades,
And the bi-forked hill
A mere desert will be.
My Thunder no fear on't,
Shall soon do its errand,
And dam'me I'll swing
The Ringleaders I warrant.
I'll trim the young dogs,
For thus daring to twine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine."
Apollo rose up,
And said, "Pry'thee ne'er quarrel,
Good King of the Gods,
With My Vot'ries below:
Your Thunder is useless"--
Then showing his laurel,
Cry'd "Sic evitabile
Fulmen, you know!
Then over each head,
My laurels I'll spread,
So my sons from your Crackers
No mischief shall dread,
While, snug in their clubroom,
They jovially twine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine."
Next Momus got up
With his risible Phiz
And swore with Apollo
He'd cheerfully join --
"The full tide of Harmony
Still shall be his,
But the Song, and the Catch,
And the Laugh shall be mine.
Then, Jove, be not jealous
Of these honest fellows."
Cry'd Jove, "We relent,
Since the truth you now tell us:
And swear by Old Styx,
That they long shall intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine."
Ye Sons of Anacreon,
Then join hand in hand;
Preserve Unanimity,
Friendship, and Love!
'Tis yours to support
What's so happily plann'd;
You've the sanction of Gods,
And the Fiat of Jove.
While thus we agree,
Our toast let it be:
"May our Club flourish Happy,
United, and Free!
And long may the Sons
Of Anacreon intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus' Vine."


  • Mark Argent (Herausgeber): Recollections of R.J.S. Stevens: An Organist in Georgian London (Music in Georgian and Victorian Society), Southern Illinois University Press, Juli 1992, ISBN 0-8093-1790-7


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