Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXI.
By Thomas Moore
With twenty chords my lyre is hung, And while I wake them all for thee, Thou, O maiden, wild and young, Disportest in airy levity. The nursling fawn, that in some shade Its antlered mother leaves behind, Is not more wantonly afraid, More timid of the rustling wind!
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"With twenty chords my lyre is hung,..."
"Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXI." 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...