 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
THE CLUE.
To one in dungeons bound there came,
The last long night before he died,
An Angel garlanded with flame
Who raised his hand and prophesied:
The last long night before he died,
An Angel garlanded with flame
Who raised his hand and prophesied:
‘Thy life hath been a dream: but lo!
This night thine eyes shall see the truth:
That which thou thoughtest weal was woe;
And that was joy thou thoughtest ruth.
This night thine eyes shall see the truth:
That which thou thoughtest weal was woe;
And that was joy thou thoughtest ruth.
‘Thy Land hath conquer'd through her loss;
With her God's chief of Creatures plain'd,
The same who scaled of old the Cross
When Mary's self beneath remain'd.
With her God's chief of Creatures plain'd,
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When Mary's self beneath remain'd.
‘Thou fought'st upon the righteous side:
Yet, being dust, thou wroughtest sin:
Once—twice—thy hand was raised in pride:
The Promised Land thou may'st not win;
Yet, being dust, thou wroughtest sin:
Once—twice—thy hand was raised in pride:
The Promised Land thou may'st not win;
‘But they, thy children, shall.’ Next morn
Around the Patriot-martyr press'd
A throng that cursed him. He in turn,
The sentenced, bless'd them—and was bless'd.
Around the Patriot-martyr press'd
A throng that cursed him. He in turn,
The sentenced, bless'd them—and was bless'd.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |