[1]
Here recline you, gentle maid,
Sweet is this embowering shade;
Sweet the young, the modest trees,
Ruffled by the kissing breeze;
Sweet the little founts that weep,
Lulling soft the mind to sleep;
Hark! they whisper as they roll,
Calm persuasion to the soul;
Tell me, tell me, is not this
All a stilly scene of bliss?
"Who, my girl, would pass it by?
Surely neither you nor I."
Odes Of Anacreon - Ode Xix
Thomas Moore
(1)
Poem topics: girl, sleep, soul, gentle, young, shade, mind, whisper, soft, scene, sweet, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Odes Of Anacreon - Ode Xix poem by Thomas Moore
Best Poems of Thomas Moore