I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
V. |
VI. |
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||
X. A PORTRAIT OF ANNE BOLEYN.
Ah, silver-tissued phantom lithe as hindSkimming dark glades! Ah, white as moon that dips
In storm-cloud black its crescent's glimmering tips!
Ah, blithesome foot, swifter than wave or wind!
382
Honour's death-warrant? Those the laughing lips
That o'er a realm's Religion breathed eclipse;
A King, once kingly, changed to false and blind?
Salomè new! was this the babe that played
With her own shadow 'mid the founts and flowers?
Death-sentenced Queen! was this the girl that prayed
Before our Lady's shrine, unmoved for hours?
I judge not her. The night before her death
She prayed her childhood's prayers—with tranquil breath.
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||