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The Odes of Anacreon
Thomas Moore
The Odes of Anacreon
Thomas Moore
I often wish this languid lyre, This warbler of my soul's desire, Could raise the breath of song sublime, To men of fame in former time. But when the soaring theme I try, Along the chords my numbers die, And whisper, with dissolving tone, 'Our sighs are given to love alone!' Indignant at the feeble lay, I tore the panting chords away, Attuned them to a nobler swell, And struck again the breathing shell;
Mídia | Livros Paperback Book (Livro de capa flexível e brochura) |
Lançado | 3 de novembro de 2015 |
ISBN13 | 9781518737442 |
Editoras | Createspace Independent Publishing Platf |
Páginas | 64 |
Dimensões | 152 × 229 × 3 mm · 99 g |
Idioma | English |
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