 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
I.
Cold, pure, reviving, med'cinable gales,Sea-born, nor charged with breath of herb or flower,
That far o'er moonlight seas, perhaps this hour,
Trouble some sleeping pilot's whispering sails,
And pour into his ear consoling tales
Of ivy murmuring round a known church tower;
Crystalline airs, in love and pitying power,
Serving that God whose love o'er all prevails;
Hither in mercy also come, and lean
One moment on those lids and o'er this breast!
O cooled by all the shadows of your caves,
O fresh from mountain snows or loneliest waves,
O pure from haunts where man hath never been,
Come with ethereal dews and endless rest!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |