I. 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,
Chorus: And besides I'll instruct you, Like me, to intwine The Myrtle of Venus With Bacchus' Vine."
II. 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,