Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 6

As late I sought the spangled bowers
To cull a wreath of matin flowers,
Where many an early rose was weeping,
I found the urchin Cupid sleeping.
I caught the boy, a goblet’s tide
Was richly mantling by my side,
I caught him by his downy wing,
And whelm’d him in the racy spring.
Then drank I down the poison’d bowl,
And Love now nestles in my soul.
O yes, my soul is Cupid’s nest,
I feel him fluttering in my breast.

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 52
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 114. I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1213

Последние стихотворения

To English version