Anacreon - Poem by Victor Daley
We bought a volume of Anacreon,
Defaced, mishandled, little to admire,
And yet its rusty clasps kept guard upon
The sweetest songs, the songs of young desire
Like that great song once sung by Solomon.
My sweetheart's cheeks were peonies on fire:
We saw by the bright message of his eyes
That Eros served us in bookseller's guise.
I keep the volume still, but She has gone . . .
Ah, for the poetry in Paradise!
There's Honey still and Roses on the earth,
And lips to kiss, and jugs to drain with mirth;
And lovers walk in pairs: but She has gone . . .
Comments about Anacreon by Victor Daley
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye