From The Greek Of Meleager.
By Thomas Moore
Fill high the cup with liquid flame, And speak my Heliodora's name. Repeat its magic o'er and o'er, And let the sound my lips adore, Live in the breeze, till every tone, And word, and breath, speaks her alone. Give me the wreath that withers there, It was but last delicious night, It circled her luxuriant hair, And caught her eyes' reflected light. Oh! haste, and twine it round my brow, 'Tis all of her that's left me now. And see--each rosebud drops a tear, To find the nymph no longer here-- No longer, where such heavenly charms As hers should be--within these arms.
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"Fill high the cup with liquid flame,..."
"From The Greek Of Meleager." is a quintessential example of Thomas Moore's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...