 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
MOODS.
In heaviness I lay; no word
I spake; I breathed no tone;
When down from Heaven a thought of joy
Into my heart fell prone:
It smote, it thrilled, it pierced my mind;
Then by that mind's up-buoyaunce
Half-lifted, o'er it cast a glow
Of beauty and deep joyaunce.
I spake; I breathed no tone;
When down from Heaven a thought of joy
Into my heart fell prone:
It smote, it thrilled, it pierced my mind;
Then by that mind's up-buoyaunce
Half-lifted, o'er it cast a glow
Of beauty and deep joyaunce.
209
It left me: and my soul once more
Grew dreary as a flood,
When that bright Nymph who bathed therein
Hath vanished in the wood:
When her last lustre from the wave
Is gone, or all but gone,
And backward close the forest boughs,
And the shades of Eve come on.
Grew dreary as a flood,
When that bright Nymph who bathed therein
Hath vanished in the wood:
When her last lustre from the wave
Is gone, or all but gone,
And backward close the forest boughs,
And the shades of Eve come on.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |