Explore "To Aubrey De Vere" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ray of the Dawn of Truth, Aubrey de Vere, / Forgive my play fantastic with thy name, / Distilling its true essence by the flame / Which Love 'neath Fancy's limbeck lighteth clear. / I know not what thy semblance, what thy cheer; / If, as thy spirit, hale thy bodily frame, / Or furthering by failure each high aim; / If green thy leaf, or, like mine, growing sear; / But this I think, that thou wilt, by and by -- / Two journeys stoutly, therefore safely trod -- / We laying down the staff, and He the rod -- / So look on me I shall not need to cry -- / "We must be brothers, Aubrey, thou and I: / We mean the same thing -- will the will of God! "