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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
SEMPER EADEM.
I
The moon, freshly risen from the bosom of ocean,Hangs o'er it suspended, all mournful yet bright;
And a yellow sea-circle with yearning emotion
Swells up as to meet it, and clings to its light:
The orb unabiding grows whiter, mounts higher;
The pathos of darkness descends on the brine:
O Erin! the North drew its light from thy pyre:
Thy light woke the nations; the embers were thine!
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II
Tis sunrise! The mountains flash forth; and, new-redden'd,The billows grow lustrous, so lately forlorn;
From the orient with vapours long darken'd and deaden'd
The trumpets of Godhead are pealing ‘the Morn!’
He rises, the Sun, in his might re-ascending;
Like an altar beneath him lies blazing the sea!
O Erin! Who proved thee returns to thee, blending
The future and past in one garland for thee!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |