|
|
Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXX.
By Thomas Moore
A broken cake, with honey sweet,
Is all my spare and simple treat:
And while a generous bowl I crown
To float my little banquet down,
I take the soft, the amorous lyre,
And sing of love's delicious fire:
In mirthful measures warm and free,
I sing, dear maid, and sing for thee!
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 355 times.
|
|