Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 70

A broken cake, with honey sweet,
Is all my spare and simple treat:
And while a generous bowl I crown
To float my little banquet down,
I take the soft, the amorous lyre,
And sing of love's delicious fire:
In mirthful measures warm and free,
I sing, dear maid, and sing for thee!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 10
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 48
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 6
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 32
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 69

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