Thomas Moore ( )


From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 78


When Cupid sees how thickly now,
The snows of Time fall oer my brow,
Upon his wing of golden light.
He passes with an eaglet's flight,
And flitting onward seems to say,
Fare thee well, thoust had thy day!





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15.10.1971 
  
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Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From Irish Melodies. 10. Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore
  2. From Irish Melodies. 61. Id Mourn the Hopes
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 70
  4. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 59
  5. From Irish Melodies. 92. ODonohues Mistress


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