I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. | XXVI.
MATER DIVINÆ GRATIÆ. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXII. |
LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
III. |
V. |
VI. |
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||
XXVI. MATER DIVINÆ GRATIÆ.
‘They have no wine.’ The tender guest
Was grieved their feast should lack for aught:
He seemed to slight her mute request:
Not less the grace she wished He wrought.
Was grieved their feast should lack for aught:
He seemed to slight her mute request:
Not less the grace she wished He wrought.
O great in Love! O full of Grace
That winds in thee a river broad
From Christ, with heaven-reflecting face,
Gladdening the City of thy God!
That winds in thee a river broad
From Christ, with heaven-reflecting face,
Gladdening the City of thy God!
Be this thy gift: that man henceforth
No more should creep through life content,
Draining the springs impure of earth
With life's material element.
No more should creep through life content,
Draining the springs impure of earth
With life's material element.
74
Let sacraments to sense succeed:
Let nought be winning, nought be good
Which fails of Him to speak, and bleed
Once more with His all-cleansing blood!
Let nought be winning, nought be good
Which fails of Him to speak, and bleed
Once more with His all-cleansing blood!
‘They have no wine.’ At heaven's high Feast
That soft petition still hath place,
And bathes—so wills that Kingly Priest
Whose ‘Hour is come’—the worlds with Grace.
That soft petition still hath place,
And bathes—so wills that Kingly Priest
Whose ‘Hour is come’—the worlds with Grace.
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||