Alcaeus of Mytilene Ancient Greek: Ἀλκαῖος ὁ Μυτιληναῖος, Alkaios ho Mutilēnaios; c. 625–620 – c. 580 BC) was a lyric poet from the Greek island of Lesbos who is credited with inventing the Alcaic stanza. He was included in the canonical list of nine lyric poets by the scholars of Hellenistic Alexandria. He was a contemporary and an alleged lover of Sappho, with whom he may have exchanged poems. He was born into the aristocratic governing class of Mytilene, the main city of Lesbos, where he was involved in political disputes and feuds.

by: Alcaeus (7th-6th century B.C.) translated by Walter Petersen

Its whole large hall with bronze is brightly beaming,
Its roof bedecked with flashing helmets gleaming,
Grim tools of war. White crests of horses' hair
Nod at their tops, a treasured pride to wear
For warriors on their heads. Upon each wall
The pegs by flashing greaves are hidden all,
Against swift darts a brazen bulwark strong,
And by new linen corslets, and a throng
Of curvèd shields and of Chalcidian blades,
Tunics, and belts, and other warlike aids.
These can we not forget and e'er must heed,
Since once we undertook this martial deed.

by: Alcaeus (7th-6th century B.C.) translated by James S. Easby-Smith

Behold! the tender Autumn flower
Is purpling on the hill,
The roses wither on the bower,
And vanished is the dill.
The morning air is keen and bright,
The afternoon is full of light,
And Hesper ushers in the night
With breezes damp and chill.

The purple harvest of the vine
Is bleeding in the press,
And Bacchus comes to taste the wine
And all our labours bless.
Then bring a golden bowl immense,
And mix enough to drown your sense,
And care not if you soon commence
Your secrets to confess.
 
For wine a mirror is, to show
The image that is fair,
The friend of lightsome mirth, the foe
Of shadow-haunting care.
So fill your Teian goblet up,
And scatter jewels from the cup,
And drink until the last hiccough
Shall drown your latest woe.  

by: Alcaeus (7th-6th century B.C.) translated by James S. Easby-Smith

Not in hewn stones, nor in well-fashioned beams,
Not in the noblest of the builder's dreams,
But in courageous men of purpose great,
There is the fortress, there the living State.