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Poem by Thomas Moore From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 57 Whose was the artist hand that spread Upon this disk the ocean's bed? And, in a flight of fancy, high As aught on earthly wing can fly, Depicted thus, in semblance warm, The Queen of Love's voluptuous form Floating along the silvery sea In beauty's naked majesty! Oh! he hath given the enamoured sight A witching banquet of delight, Where, gleaming through the waters clear, Glimpses of undreamt charms appear, And all that mystery loves to screen, Fancy, like Faith, adores unseen. Light as a leaf, that on the breeze Of summer skims the glassy seas, She floats along the ocean's breast, Which undulates in sleepy rest; While stealing on, she gently pillows Her bosom on the heaving billows. Her bosom, like the dew-washed rose, Her neck, like April's sparkling snows. Illume the liquid path she traces, And burn within the stream's embraces. Thus on she moves, in languid pride, Encircled by the azure tide, As some fair lily o'er a bed Of violets bends its graceful head. Beneath their queen's inspiring glance, The dolphins o'er the green sea dance, Bearing in triumph young Desire, And infant Love with smiles of fire! While, glittering through the silver waves, The tenants of the briny caves Around the pomp their gambols play, And gleam along the watery way. Thomas Moore Thomas Moore's other poems:
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