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1814–1902

II.

Aubrey De Vere

Rejoice, O Earth, thy crown is won! Rejoice, rejoice, ye heavenly host! And thou, the Mother of the Son, Rejoice the first; rejoice the most!

Who captive led captivity — From Hades’ void circumference Who led the Patriarch Band on high, There rules, and sends us graces thence.

Rejoice, glad Earth, o'er winter's grave With altars wreathed and clarions blown; And thou, the Race Redeemed, outbrave The rites of nature with thine own!

Rejoice, O Mary! thou that long Didst lean thy breast upon the sword — Sad nightingale, the Spirit's song That sang'st all night! He reigns, restored!

Rejoice! He goes, the Paraclete To send! Rejoice! He reigns on high! The sword lies broken at thy feet — His triumph is thy victory!

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II. · Aubrey De Vere · Poetry Cove