Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 3

Listen to the Muse’s lyre,
Master of the pencil’s fire!
Sketch’d in painting’s bold display,
Many a city first portray;
Many a city, revelling free,
Full of loose festivity.
Picture then a rosy train,
Bacchants straying o’er the plain;
Piping, as they roam along,
Roundelay or shepherd-song.
Paint me next, if painting may
Such a theme as this portray,
All the earthly heaven of love
These delighted mortals prove.

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 45
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 20
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 48
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 63

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