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The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere

De Vere, Aubrey (1814-1902)

expand sectionI. 
VOL. I. THE SEARCH AFTER PROSERPINE
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VOL. II.
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VOL. III.
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VOL. IV.
  
[dedication]
  
PROLOGUE.
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MAY CAROLS.
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PART I. THE DIVINE CHILDHOOD.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V. SANCTA MARIA.
 VI. 
VI. FEST. NATIVITATIS B. V. M.
 VII. 
VII. AB ANGELO SALUTATA.
 VIII. 
VIII. NIHIL RESPONDIT.
 IX. 
IX. ST. JOSEPH'S DOUBT.
 X. 
X. FEST. VISITATIONIS.
 XI. 
XI. AMOR INNOCENTIUM.
 XII. 
XII. FEST. NATIVITATIS.
 XIII. 
XIII. PROTEVANGELION.
 XIV. 
XIV. DEI GENITRIX.
 XV. 
XV. ADOLESCENTULÆ AMAVERUNT TE NIMIS.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII. FEST. EPIPHANIÆ.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. FEST. EPIPHANIÆ.
 XIX. 
XIX. MATER DEI.
 XX. 
XX. GAUDIUM ANGELORUM.
 XXI. 
XXI. LEGENDA.
 XXII. 
XXII. FEST. PRESENTATIONIS.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. THE FIRST DOLOUR.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV. LEGENDA.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. THE SECOND DOLOUR.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. SAINT JOSEPH.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. ‘JOSEPH, HER HUSBAND.’
 XXIX. 
XXIX. SAINT JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE.
 XXX. 
XXX. MATER CHRISTI.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. MATER CHRISTI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. MATER CREATORIS.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. MATER SALVATORIS.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. HER FOUNDATIONS ARE ON THE HOLY HILLS.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. MATER ADMIRABILIS.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI. MATER AMABILIS.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. THE THIRD DOLOUR.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. MATER FILII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII. NAZARETH.
 XLIII. 
XLIII. FŒDERIS ARCA.
 XLIV. 
XLIV. SPIRITUS SPONSA.
 XLV. 
XLV. ORANTE.
 XLVI. 
XLVI. RESPEXIT HUMILITATEM.
 XLVII. 
XLVII. MULIER FORTIS.
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PART II. THE SPIRITUAL MOTHERHOOD.
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PART III. MARIÆ IN CŒLIS.
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LEGENDS OF THE SAXON SAINTS.
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VOL. V.
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VOL. VI. LEGENDS AND RECORDS OF THE CHURCH AND THE EMPIRE

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364

3.

Alone, among thy books, once more I sit;
No sound there stirs except the flapping fire:
Strange shadows of old times about me flit
As sinks the midnight lamp or flickers higher:
I see thee pace the room: with eye thought-lit
Back, back, thou com'st once more to my desire:
Low-toned thou read'st once more the verse new-writ,
Too deep, too pure for worldlings to admire.
That brow all honour, that all-gracious hand,
That cordial smile, and clear voice musical,
That noble bearing, mien of high command,
Yet void of pride—to-night I have them all.
Ah, phantoms vain of thought! The Christmas air
Is white with flying flakes. Where art thou—where?
Christmas, 1860.
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