 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere
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III.
TO E.—2.
No more, O never more in wood, or wold,
Mountain, or ocean's many-coloured plain,
Or in the manners or the minds of men,
Shall we the ancient loveliness behold.
An apathetic languor, calm and cold,
Hangs upon all things with a cast of pain;
And a community of self-disdain
Is all the young inherit from the old.
Earth, full of years, and in old age forlorn,
Laments the dewy beauty of her prime,
Laments with tears, and would of thee implore
A restoration, unrestoring Time!
A restoration of her glorious morn,
And Love which, once rejected, comes no more.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere
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