Translation from Anacreon: Ode 3

'Twas now the hour when Night had drivenHer car half round yon sable heaven;Boötes, only, seem'd to rollHis Arctic charge around the Pole;While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,5Forgot to smile, or ceas'd to weep:At this lone hour the Paphian boy,Descending from the realms of joy,Quick to my gate directs his course,And knocks with all his little force;10My visions fled, alarm'd I rose,--"What stranger breaks my blest repose?""Alas!" replies the wily childIn faltering accents sweetly mild;"A hapless Infant here I roam,15Far from my dear maternal home.Oh! shield me from the wintry blast!The nightly storm is pouring fast.No prowling robber lingers here;A wandering baby who can fear?"20I heard his seeming artless tale,I heard his sighs upon the gale:My breast was never pity's foe,But felt for all the baby's woe.I drew the bar, and by the light25Young Love, the infant, met my sight;His bow across his shoulders flung,And thence his fatal quiver hung(Ah! little did I think the dartWould rankle soon within my heart).30With care I tend my weary guest,His little fingers chill my breast;His glossy curls, his azure wing,Which droop with nightly showers, I wring;His shivering limbs the embers warm;35And now reviving from the storm,Scarce had he felt his wonted glow,Than swift he seized his slender bow:--"I fain would know, my gentle host,"He cried, "if this its strength has lost;40I fear, relax'd with midnight dews,The strings their former aid refuse."With poison tipt, his arrow flies,Deep in my tortur'd heart it lies:Then loud the joyous Urchin laugh'd:--45"My bow can still impel the shaft:'Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it;Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it?"