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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;
Medios de comunicación | Libros Paperback Book (Libro con tapa blanda y lomo encolado) |
Publicado | 3 de noviembre de 2015 |
ISBN13 | 9781518737442 |
Editores | Createspace Independent Publishing Platf |
Páginas | 64 |
Dimensiones | 152 × 229 × 3 mm · 99 g |
Lengua | English |
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