Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 10

How am I to punish thee,
For the wrong thou’st done to me,
Silly swallow, prating thing —
Shall I clip that wheeling wing,
Or, as Tereus did, of old,
(So the fabled tale is told,)
Shall I tear that tongue away,
Tongue that utter’d such a lay?
Ah, how thoughtless hast thou been!
Long before the dawn was seen,
When a dream came o’er my mind,
Picturing her I worship, kind,
Just when I was nearly blest,
Loud thy matins broke my rest!

1. To-Day, Dearest! Is Ours
2. Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 24
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 69

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