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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XXXV. THE LAKE OF LUCERNE.
In shape a Cross, and walled with cliffs so highThat o'er each aisle of that quadruple plain
No unfit roof appears the vaulted sky,
It lies, a vast and crystal-paven fane,
A Church, by Nature built, and not in vain
Among the shadowing Mountains; to supply
For all thy sons and suppliants, Liberty,
A shrine of ample girth, and free from stain.
But thou, O Freedom! bid them gaze with fear
And love, upon Tell's birthplace, not on thee!
An awful thing art thou, not less than dear:
Unpurged no eye thy form unveiled should see:
Temples their hearts should be who hope to gain thee—
The sword may win, but Virtue must retain thee!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |