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 | ||
228
XVIII.
Ample, and vast, and infinitely still,Slants down from the blue crystal of the sky,
Throne of the Muse, the Heliconian hill:
Citheron's frowning crest ascends hard by
With clouds and tempest plagued perpetually:
There walk those feet that fates unblest fulfil:
There tread the avenging Furies: wild and shrill
There rings the victim's shriek, the Mænad's cry.
Poets! let none deceive you; nor confound
Tumult with strength. Then most the Muse is calm,
Singing the strifes of sublunary things:
Steady her hand among the quivering strings:
No sorrow she approves that slights her balm:
Her toils are rest-ennobled, virtue-crowned!
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||