Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXVI.
By Thomas Moore
Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms, Or tell the tale of Theban arms; With other wars my song shall burn, For other wounds my harp shall mourn. 'Twas not the crested warrior's dart, That drank the current of my heart; Nor naval arms, nor mailed steed, Have made this vanquished bosom bleed; No--'twas from eyes of liquid blue, A host of quivered Cupids flew;[1] And now my heart all bleeding lies Beneath that army of the eyes!
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"Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Moore delivers a powerful performance in "Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXVI."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...