Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 64

Haste thee, nymph, whose well-aimed spear
Wounds the fleeting mountain-deer!
Dian, Jove's immortal child,
Huntress of the savage wild!
Goddess with the sun-bright hair!
Listen to a people's prayer.
Turn, to Lethe's river turn,
There thy vanquished people mourn!
Come to Lethe's wavy shore,
Tell them they shall mourn no more.
Thine their hearts, their altars thine;
Must they, Dian — must they pine?

1. From “Irish Melodies”. 10. Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 59
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56
4. The Lake of the Dismal Swamp
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 15

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