Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 40

I know that Heaven hath sent me here,
To run this mortal life’s career;
The scenes which I have journeyed o’er,
Return no more — alas! no more,
And all the path I’ve yet to go,
I neither know nor ask to know
Away, then, wizard Care, not think
Thy fetters round this soul to link;
Never can heart that feels with me
Descend to be a slave to thee!
And oh! before the vital thrill,
Which trembles at my heart, is still,
I’ll gather Joy’s luxuriant flowers,
And gild with bliss my fading hours;
Bacchus shall bid my winter bloom,
And Venus dance me to the tomb!

1. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 44
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 32

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1830

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