 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
I. GIOTTO'S CAMPANILE AT FLORENCE.
Enchased with precious marbles, pure and rare,How 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 its summit were
For a descended Angel! happy isle
Mid life's rough sea of sorrow, force, and guile,
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 | |