| I. | 
| II. | 
| III. | 
| IV. | 
| I. | 
| II. | 
| 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. | 
| LII. | 
| LIII. | 
| LIV. | 
| LV. | 
| LVI. | 
| LVII. | 
| LVIII. | 
| LIX. | 
| LX. | 
| LXI. | 
| LXII. | 
| LXIII. | 
| LXIV. | 
| LXV. | 
| LXVI. | 
| LXVII. | 
| LXVIII. | 
| LXIX. | 
| LXX. | 
| LXXI. | 
| LXXII. | 
| LXXIII. | 
| LXXIV. | 
| LXXV. | 
| LXXVI. | 
| III. | 
| V. | 
| VI. | 
|  The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||
A man so great to one so slight, so small!
Mother! this letter 'twixt my hands high held—
I dreamed of it all night; I dreamed a star
Shone ever on the scroll—this precious letter
Is full of wisdom as the spring of flowers;
Full as your eyes are full of beams and tears
At times, upon me gazing; as your lips
Are full of sweetness closing upon mine.
How gently bends this seer to teach a child!
I grow to something better. Once I wept
When from the Catacombs they fetched triumphant
Some new-found vial red with Martyr's blood:
This day I fain would share such death! What wonder?
Ere speech was mine you vowed for me a vow
That never sin should stain that chrisom-robe
Which pledged your babe to Christ. Maidens each night
Wear garb as white!—you see how glitters mine
Touched by the rising sun. The vow you made
Each morning I renew. That anchoret grave
Was bound by sterner rule.
Mother! this letter 'twixt my hands high held—
I dreamed of it all night; I dreamed a star
Shone ever on the scroll—this precious letter
166
Full as your eyes are full of beams and tears
At times, upon me gazing; as your lips
Are full of sweetness closing upon mine.
How gently bends this seer to teach a child!
I grow to something better. Once I wept
When from the Catacombs they fetched triumphant
Some new-found vial red with Martyr's blood:
This day I fain would share such death! What wonder?
Ere speech was mine you vowed for me a vow
That never sin should stain that chrisom-robe
Which pledged your babe to Christ. Maidens each night
Wear garb as white!—you see how glitters mine
Touched by the rising sun. The vow you made
Each morning I renew. That anchoret grave
Was bound by sterner rule.
|  The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||