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...
Mix me, child, a cup divine...
By Thomas Moore
Mix me, child, a cup divine,
Crystal water, ruby wine;
Weave the frontlet, richly flushing,
O'er my wintry temples blushing.
Mix the brimmer--Love and I
Shall no more the gauntlet try.
Here -- upon this holy bowl,
I surrender all my soul!
Source Book
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore.
by Thomas Moore
Copyright undated, very old
Published by The Walter Scott Publishing Co. Ltd.
