Thomas Moore ( )

From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 36

If hoarded gold possessd the power
To lengthen lifes too fleeting hour,
And purchase from the hand of death
A little span, a moments breath,
How would I love the precious ore!
And every hour should swell my store;
That when death came with shadowy pinion,
To waft me to his bleak dominion,
I might by bribes my doom delay,
And bid him call some distant day.
But since not all earth golden store
Can buy for us one bright hour more,
Why should we vainly mourn our fate,
Or sigh at lifes uncertain date?
Nor wealth nor grandeur can illume
The silent midnight of the tomb.
No  give to others hoarded treasures 
Mine be the brilliant round of pleasures;
The goblet rich, the board of friends,
Whose social souls the goblet blends;
And mine, while yet Ive life to live,
Those joys that love alone can give.

Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From Irish Melodies. 61. Id Mourn the Hopes
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 3
  3. From Irish Melodies. 10. Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore
  4. From Irish Melodies. 92. ODonohues Mistress
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 68

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