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From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 37 ’Twas night, and many a circling bowl Had deeply warm’d my thirsty soul; As lull’d in slumber I was laid, Bright visions o’er my fancy play’d. With maidens, blooming as the dawn, I seem’d to skim the opening lawn; Light, on tiptoe bathed in dew, We flew, and sported as we flew! Some ruddy striplings, who look’d on — With cheeks, that like the wine-god’s shone, Saw me chasing, free and wild, These blooming maids, and slyly smiled; Smiled indeed with wanton glee, Though none could doubt they envied me. And still I flew — and now had caught The panting nymphs, and fondly thought To gather from each rosy lip A kiss that Jove himself might sip — When sudden all my dream of joys, Blushing nymphs and laughing boys, All were gone! — „Alas!” I said, Sighing for the illusion fled, „Again, sweet sleep, that scene restore, Oh! let me dream it o’er and o’er!” Thomas Moore's other poems:
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