Page:Poems Blake.djvu/191

Through every phase of doubt or ill,
 Immortal as her past.

Thou soul of love! Thou heart of fire!
 That flamed for Erin's sake;
Whose light bade each fond hope aspire,
 Whose warmth kept life awake,—
If, at thy name, the thought which starts
 Finds voice in faltering phrase,
'T is that we hold thee in our hearts
 Too deep for idle praise.

But while across Avoca's vale
 The shades of fancy rest,
While the last roses fade and pale
 Above the summer's breast,—
While valor lives, or young love thrills.
 The changeful moods of men,
The charm which all thy music fills
 Shall live and breathe again!

And we, who of the whole broad earth
 Can never quite forget
That race and creed and common birth
 Have brought thee nearer yet,—