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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XLVIII. THE VEIL.
For thirty years with her He lurked
As secret as the unrisen sun:
In three short years His Work He worked:
That work we know. The victory won,
As secret as the unrisen sun:
In three short years His Work He worked:
That work we know. The victory won,
Once more the veil descends, and shrouds
That trance of Love, the Forty Days:
Like mountains lost in luminous clouds
Their marvels cheat our yearning gaze.
That trance of Love, the Forty Days:
Like mountains lost in luminous clouds
Their marvels cheat our yearning gaze.
The Saints who rose when Jesus died,
Lazarus, twice cast from nature's womb,
Hidden their after days abide
As Enoch's life or Moses' tomb.
Lazarus, twice cast from nature's womb,
Hidden their after days abide
As Enoch's life or Moses' tomb.
The Work, the Work, no more, is told:
The lore man needs not shuns his sight:
Thy Work was this, to clothe in mould
Of Adam's race the Infinite.
The lore man needs not shuns his sight:
Thy Work was this, to clothe in mould
Of Adam's race the Infinite.
Thy Motherhood thine endless Act
In this all lesser praise is drowned:
To this to add were to detract:
Sole-throned it bideth and self-crowned.
In this all lesser praise is drowned:
To this to add were to detract:
Sole-throned it bideth and self-crowned.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |