Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 61

YOUTH'S endearing charms are fled;
Hoary locks deform my head;
Bloomy graces, dalliance gay,
All the flowers of life decay.
Withering age begins to trace
Sad memorials o'er my face;
Time has shed its sweetest bloom,
All the future must be gloom.
This it is that sets me sighing;
Dreary is the thought of dying!
Lone and dismal is the road,
Down to Pluto's dark abode;
And, when once the journey 's o'er,
Ah! we can return no more!

1. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
2. День текущий -- день наш, дорогая! • To-Day, Dearest! Is Ours
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 69
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 26
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1832

Последние стихотворения

To English version