Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn
The wealth of Amalthea's horn;
Nor should I ask to call the throne
Of the Tartessian prince my own;[1]
To totter through his train of years,
The victim of declining fears.
One little hour of joy to me
Is worth a dull eternity!
Odes Of Anacreon - Ode Lxvii.
Thomas Moore
(1)
Poem topics: joy, eternity, wealth, worth, train, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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