 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
53
Prologue.
‘CAN THESE BONES LIVE?’
A voice from the midnoon call'd, ‘Arise, be alone, and remove thee;
Descend into valleys of bale, and look on the visions of night;
From the stranger flee, and be strange to the men and the women that love thee
That thy wine may be tears, and that ashes may mix with the meats of delight.
Descend into valleys of bale, and look on the visions of night;
From the stranger flee, and be strange to the men and the women that love thee
That thy wine may be tears, and that ashes may mix with the meats of delight.
To few is the Vision shown, and to none for his weal or from merit:
As lepers they live who see it; as those that men pity or hate:
And to few is the Voice reveal'd; yet to them who hear and can bear it
Though bitterness cometh at first, yet sweetness cometh more late.’
As lepers they live who see it; as those that men pity or hate:
And to few is the Voice reveal'd; yet to them who hear and can bear it
Though bitterness cometh at first, yet sweetness cometh more late.’
Then in vision I saw a Corse—death-cold; but the Angels had draped it
In light; and that light divine round the unseal'd death-cave was strewn;
And an anthem rush'd o'er the worlds; but the tongue that moulded and shaped it
Was a great storm through ruins borne; and the lips that spake it were stone.
In light; and that light divine round the unseal'd death-cave was strewn;
54
Was a great storm through ruins borne; and the lips that spake it were stone.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |