The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||
IV.
Then the clan rose up from the ground, and gave ear,And they fell'd great oak-trees and built a Bier;
Its plumes from the eagle's wings were shed,
And the wine-black samite above it spread
Inwov'n with sad emblems and texts divine,
And the braided bud of Tirconnell's pine,
29
When past are the measured years God gave,
And a voice cries ‘Come’ from the waiting grave.
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||