Love
Ode LXXI
Translated by Thomas Moore (1800) · From Odes of Anacreon (1800)
Love
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!
Cite this poem
MLA
Anacreon. “Ode LXXI.” Translated by Thomas Moore. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/anacreon/70/.
Chicago
Anacreon. “Ode LXXI.” Translated by Thomas Moore. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/anacreon/70/.
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