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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
148
XXXI. CORPUS CHRISTI.
What music swells on every gale?
What heavenly Herald speedeth past?
Vale sings to vale, ‘He comes; all hail!’
Sea sobs to sea, ‘He comes at last.’
What heavenly Herald speedeth past?
Vale sings to vale, ‘He comes; all hail!’
Sea sobs to sea, ‘He comes at last.’
The Earth bursts forth in choral song;
Aloft her ‘Lauda Sion’ soars;
Her myrtle boughs at once are flung
Before a thousand Minster doors.
Aloft her ‘Lauda Sion’ soars;
Her myrtle boughs at once are flung
Before a thousand Minster doors.
Far on the white processions wind
Through wood and plain and street and court:
The kings and prelates pace behind
The King of kings in seemly sort.
Through wood and plain and street and court:
The kings and prelates pace behind
The King of kings in seemly sort.
The incense floats on Grecian air
Old Carmel echoes Calpè's chant,
In every breeze the torches flare
That curls the waves of the Levant.
Old Carmel echoes Calpè's chant,
In every breeze the torches flare
That curls the waves of the Levant.
On Ramah's plain in Bethlehem's bound
Is heard to-day a gladsome voice:
‘Rejoice,’ it cries, ‘the Lost is found!
With Mary's joy, O Earth, rejoice!’
Is heard to-day a gladsome voice:
‘Rejoice,’ it cries, ‘the Lost is found!
With Mary's joy, O Earth, rejoice!’
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |