 | I. |
 | II. |
|
|
|
|
|
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
162
EVENING MELODY.
O that the pines which crown yon steep
Their fires might ne'er surrender!
O that yon fervid knoll might keep
While lasts the world, its splendour!
Their fires might ne'er surrender!
O that yon fervid knoll might keep
While lasts the world, its splendour!
Pale poplars on the breeze that lean
And in the sunset shiver
O that your golden stems might screen
For aye yon glassy river!
And in the sunset shiver
O that your golden stems might screen
For aye yon glassy river!
That yon white bird on homeward wing
Soft-sliding without motion
And now in blue air vanishing
Like snow-flake lost in ocean
Soft-sliding without motion
And now in blue air vanishing
Like snow-flake lost in ocean
Beyond our sight might never flee,
Yet forward still be flying,
And all the dying day might be
Immortal in its dying!
Yet forward still be flying,
And all the dying day might be
Immortal in its dying!
Pellucid thus in saintly trance
Thus mute in expectation
What waits the Earth? Deliverance?
Ah no! Transfiguration!
Thus mute in expectation
What waits the Earth? Deliverance?
Ah no! Transfiguration!
She dreams of that ‘New Earth’ divine
Conceived of seed immortal;
She sings ‘Not mine the holier shrine,
Yet mine the steps and portal!’
Conceived of seed immortal;
She sings ‘Not mine the holier shrine,
Yet mine the steps and portal!’
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |