Thomas Moore ( )


From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 46


Behold, the young, the rosy Spring,
Gives to the breeze her scented wing;
While virgin Graces, warm with May,
Fling roses oer her dewy way.
The murmuring billows of the deep
Have languishd into silent sleep;
And mark! the flitting sea-birds lave
Their plumes in the reflecting wave;
While cranes from hoary winter fly
To flutter in a kinder sky.
Now the genial star of day
Dissolves the murky clouds away;
And cultured field, and winding stream,
Are freshly glittering in his beam.
            Now the earth prolific swells,
With leafy buds and flowery bells;
Gemming shoots the olive twine,
Clusters ripe festoon the vine;
All along the branches creeping,
Through the velvet foliage peeping,
Little infant fruits we see,
Nursing into luxury.



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 The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 55
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 70


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