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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XXXIX. THE RESTORATION.
A Sorrow that for shame had hid her faceSoared to Heaven's gate and knelt in penance there
Beneath the dusk cloud of her own wet hair
Weeping, as who would fain some deed erase
That blots in dread eclipse baptismal grace:
Like a felled tree with all its branches fair
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Low murmuring, ‘Just art Thou, but I am base:’
Then saw I in my spirit's unsealed ken
How Heaven's bright hosts thrilled like the dews of morn
When May-winds on the sacred, snowy thorn
Change diamonds into rubies: Magdalen
Arose, and kissed the Saviour's feet once more
And to that suffering soul His peace and pardon bore.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |