 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
195
8.
Mount higher, mount higher,
To the cloudland nigher;
To the regions we climb
Of our long-buried prime—
In the skies it awaits us—Up higher, up higher!
To the cloudland nigher;
To the regions we climb
Of our long-buried prime—
In the skies it awaits us—Up higher, up higher!
Loud Hymn and clear Pæan
From caverns are rolled:
Far below us is Summer—
We have slipped from her fold;
We have passed, like a breath,
To new life without death—
The Spring and our Childhood all round we behold.
From caverns are rolled:
Far below us is Summer—
We have slipped from her fold;
We have passed, like a breath,
To new life without death—
The Spring and our Childhood all round we behold.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |