Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 78

When Cupid sees how thickly now,
The snows of Time fall o’er my brow,
Upon his wing of golden light.
He passes with an eaglet's flight,
And flitting onward seems to say,
“Fare thee well, thou’st had thy day!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 65
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 25
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 115. Song of Innisfail
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 74

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