Poem by Aubrey Thomas De Vere

Nemesis

I DREAMED. Great bells around me pealed;
  The world in that sad chime was drowned;
Sharp cries as from a battle-field
  Were strangled in the wondrous sound:
Had all the kings of earth lain dead,
Had nations borne them lapped in lead
To torch-lit vaults with plume and pall,
Such bells had served for funeral.

’T was fantasy’s dark work! I slept
  Where black Baltard o’erlooks the deep;
Plunging all night the billows kept
  Their ghostly vigil round my sleep.
But I had fed on tragic lore
That day,—your annals, “Masters Four!”
And every moan of wind and sea
Was as a funeral chime to me.

1. Kinsale
2. Composed at Rydal, September, 1860
3. The Dirge of Athunree
4. Early Friendship
5. The Three Woes

Arthur Adams Nemesis ("All things must fade. There is for cities tall")

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