Skip to main content
Anacreon's tettix, singing in the trees,
Unworn by age, and like the gods therein—
Or the amorous thrush, that does at dawn begin,
Nor ceases till there's sunset on the seas:
These are the lords of melody, for whom
Earth has no touch of sadness, death no dream of doom.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.