From: jonb@Ingres.COM (Jon Berger)
Newsgroups: rec.music.folk
Subject: Re: To Anacreon (NOT Filk) (was: Re: Mangled song lyrics)
Date: 24 Jan 93 19:30:16 GMT
Reply-To: jonb@ingres.com
Organization: Ingres, an ASK Company

In article <1jrq3o$e67@agate.berkeley.edu>, lanih@herald.Berkeley.EDU (J. Lani Herrmann) writes:
>The only person I ever knew who knew ALL the verses to 'Anacreon' was
>a graduate chemist named Eugene DuFresne at the University of Chicago,
>who was inclined to pull it out at about that time at student parties.
>	I believe he is no longer with us...

I'm sure that no jury in the world could possibly have convicted whoever
was responsible.  If the singing of "To Anacreon" at a party isn't
explictly listed on the law books as a justification for homicide,
it most certainly should be.

This has been around a couple of times, but since it's made its annual
return trip, I'll post the words to this horrible chestnut.  Anyone who
has read Barth's "The Sot-Weed Factor," which, among other things, is a
devastating poke at bad 18th-century poetry, will recognize the general
style being used here.

To save you the trouble of actually parsing the turgid and stultifying
syntax, the general burden of the lyric seems to be this: a group
of mortals, who, we may presume, are closely identified with the
Anacreontic Society whose theme song this was, ask the demigod Anacreon
to teach them to "intwine the myrtle of Venus with Bacchus' vine", which
is a poetic paradiddle for "drinking and wenching at the same time".
Anacreon agrees to do this.  (The implication is that they don't know how
already.  Uh-huh.)  Jove, the boss god, think's it's a bad idea because,
if the mortals learn to be such fun-loving fellows, the goddesses will
all leave Olympus and go hang out with them.  Jove threatens to strike
the Anacreontics down with various thunderbolts for their presumption.
A couple of other gods talk him out of it.  The end.

The best that can be said for this lyric is that, by comparison, F. S.
Key's effort seems almost literary, although it's still damn near
impossible to sing.

Here, then, is the song of the Anacreontic Society, as sung at the Crown
Anchor Tavern in the Strand, circa 1780.  Words by Ralph Tomlinson,
Esq.; Music by John Stafford Smith.  Original key entry by Curt Harpold,
to whom we all owe a massive debt of gratitude for sharing this with us.


              TO ANACREON IN HEAVEN

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 wou'd 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's 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 besides I'll instruct you like me, to intwine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

"The Yellow-Haired God and his nine lusty Maids,
From Helion'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 it's errand,
And damme I'll swing the Ringleaders I warrant,
I'll trim the young dogs, for thus daring to twine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

Apollo rose up and said, "Pry'thee ne'er quarrel,
Good sing of the Gods with my Vot'ries below:
Your Thunder is useless"--then showing his laurel,
Cry'd "Sic evitable 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's 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's 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's Vine."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
   -__ __ /_   Jon Berger              "If you push something hard enough,
  //_// //_/   jonb@ingres.com          it will fall over."
_/ ---------                              - Fudd's First Law of Opposition