sábado, 4 de dezembro de 2010

oh blame not the bard

oh blame not the bard - if he fly to the bowers

where pleasure lies carelessly smiling at fame

he was born for much more and in - happier hours

his soul might have burnt with a holier flame

the string that now languishes loose - over the lyre

might have bent the proud bow of a warrior's dart

and the lip which now breathes - but the song of desire

might have poured the full tide - of a patriot's heart


Thomas Moore, in Irish Melodies, in Elegant Extracts [...], in Caves do Vinho do Porto, Gaia, 1963 & ss..

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