Poem by Thomas Moore

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 37

’Twas night, and many a circling bowl
Had deeply warm’d my thirsty soul;
As lull’d in slumber I was laid,
Bright visions o’er my fancy play’d.
With maidens, blooming as the dawn,
I seem’d to skim the opening lawn;
Light, on tiptoe bathed in dew,
We flew, and sported as we flew!
            Some ruddy striplings, who look’d on —
With cheeks, that like the wine-god’s shone,
Saw me chasing, free and wild,
These blooming maids, and slyly smiled;
Smiled indeed with wanton glee,
Though none could doubt they envied me.
And still I flew — and now had caught
The panting nymphs, and fondly thought
To gather from each rosy lip
A kiss that Jove himself might sip —
When sudden all my dream of joys,
Blushing nymphs and laughing boys,
All were gone! — „Alas!” I said,
Sighing for the illusion fled,
„Again, sweet sleep, that scene restore,
Oh! let me dream it o’er and o’er!”

1. From “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
2. From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 48. Love and the Novice
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27

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