Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 69

They wove the lotus band to deck
And fan with pensile wreath each neck;
And every guest, to shade his head,
Three little fragrant chaplets spread;
And one was of the Egyptian leaf,
The rest were roses, fair and brief:
While from a golden vase profound,
To all on flowery beds around,
A Hebe, of celestial shape,
Poured the rich droppings of the grape!

1. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 65
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 17. How Oft Has the Benshee Cried
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 115. Song of Innisfail
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 68

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1820

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