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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
STANZAS.
Although I know that all my love,
My true love, is in vain; yet I
Must loose the strainèd cord that holds
My bursting heart within its folds,
And love or die.
My true love, is in vain; yet I
Must loose the strainèd cord that holds
My bursting heart within its folds,
And love or die.
Dear is the breath of early Spring
To the low-crouching violet;
The grateful river smiles upon
The glories of the sinking sun;
But dearer yet
To the low-crouching violet;
The grateful river smiles upon
The glories of the sinking sun;
But dearer yet
Than breath of Spring to the young flower,
Or sun-burst to the clouded sea,
One glance of pity from thine eye,
The music of thy faintest sigh,
Sweet love, to me.
Or sun-burst to the clouded sea,
One glance of pity from thine eye,
The music of thy faintest sigh,
Sweet love, to me.
This dreary world is very cold:
A heavy sorrow presses down
My famished heart. One tear-drop shed
In memory of the faithful dead,
When I am gone.
A heavy sorrow presses down
My famished heart. One tear-drop shed
In memory of the faithful dead,
When I am gone.
S. E. de Vere.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |