 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
226
XIV.
Far rather let us loathe and scorn the powerOf Song, than seek her fane with hearts impure,
Panting for praise or pay, the vulgar lure
Of those on whom the Muse doth scantly shower,
Or not at all, her amaranthine dower:
Ye that would serve her, first of this be sure,
Her glorious Pæans will for aye endure
Whether or not she smile upon your bower.
Go forth, eternal Melodies, go forth
O'er all the world, and in your broad arms wind it!
Go forth, as ye are wont, from south to north;
No spot so barren but your spells can find it:
So long as Heaven is vaulted o'er the earth,
So long your power survives, and who can bind it?
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |