 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
125
DEEP CRIETH UNTO DEEP.
I
Beside that Eastern sea—there first exalted—Thus sang, not Bard, but Priest, ‘The Cross lies low!’
Sad St. Sophia, 'neath thy roofs gold-vaulted
Who kneels this hour? the blind and turban'd Foe!
II
O Eire! a sister hast thou in thy sorrow!If thine the earlier, hers the bitterer moan:
She weeps to-day; great Rome may weep tomorrow!
Claim not that o'er-proud boast—to weep alone.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |