Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXI.
By Thomas Moore
[1] Armed with hyacinthine rod, (Arms enough for such a god,) Cupid bade me wing my pace, And try with him the rapid race. O'er many a torrent, wild and deep, By tangled brake and pendent steep. With weary foot I panting flew, Till my brow dropt with chilly dew. And now my soul, exhausted, dying, To my lip was faintly flying; And now I thought the spark had fled, When Cupid hovered o'er my head, And fanning light his breezy pinion, Rescued my soul from death's dominion;[2] Then said, in accents half-reproving. "Why hast thou been a foe to loving?"
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Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Moore delivers a powerful performance in "Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXI."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...