 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
GIOTTO'S CAMPANILE AT FLORENCE.
Enchased with precious marbles pure and rareHow gracefully it soars and seems the while
From every polished stage to laugh and smile
Playing with gleams of that clear southern air!
Fit resting-place methinks that summit were
For a descended Angel! happy isle
400
For Saint of royal race or vestal fair
In this seclusion—call it not a prison—
Cloistering a bosom innocent and lonely.
O Tuscan Priestess! gladly would I watch
All night one note of thy loud hymn to catch
Sent forth to greet the sun when first, new-risen,
He shines on that aërial station only!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |