Odes Of Anacreaon:
I care not for the idle state...
One day the Muses twined the hands...
Observe when mother earth is dry...
To all that breathe the airs of heaven...
Yes -- loving is a painful thrill...
If hoarded gold possess'd a power...
Yes, be the glorious revel mine...
Within this goblet rich and deep...
'Tis true, my fading years decline...
When my thirsty soul I steep...
Away, away, you men of rules...
And whose immortal hand could shed...
Golden hues of youth are fled...
Fill me, boy, as deep a draught...
Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn...
Cupid, whose lamp has lent the ray...
Let me resign a wretched breath...
I know thou lovest a brimming measure...
I fear that love disturbs my rest...
From dread Leucadia's frowning steep...
Mix me, child, a cup divine...
Away, away, you men of rules...
By Thomas Moore
Away, away, you men of rules,
What have I do with schools?
They'd make me learn, they'd make me think,
But would they make me love and drink?
Teach me this, and let me swim
My soul upon the goblet's brim;
Age begins to blanch my brow,
I've time for nought but pleasure now.
Fly and cool my goblet's glow
At yonder fountain's gelid flow;
I'll quaff, my boy, and calmly sink
This soul to slumber as I drink!
Soon, too soon, my jocund slave,
You'll deck your master's grassy grave;
And there's an end -- for ah! you know
They drink but little wine below!
Source Book
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore.
by Thomas Moore
Copyright undated, very old
Published by The Walter Scott Publishing Co. Ltd.
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Odes Of Anacreon: Away, away, you men of rules...
by Thomas Moore
