 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | VI. |
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
|
 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XXI. FROM PETRARCH.
Ah me! how beauteous were those tears of hersThe gathered cloud of Passion, melting, bred
When that deep grief whereon her heart had fed
Rose to her eyes, those tender, starlike spheres!
Wandered adown her delicate face her tears,
Wandered o'er pale cheeks touched with faintest red,
As some clear stream through meads with flowers o'erspread,
White flowers with sanguine mingled, softly steers.
Love in that rain bewitching stood embowered
Like blithesome bird on which the longed-for rays
Blended with drops of gentlest rain are showered,
And, weeping 'mid his home in those fair eyes,
Shot from the bosom of that sad, sweet haze
Gleams of an ever-brightening Paradise!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |