Sir Aubrey de Vere (1788–1846)

THE LIONESS that stalks the forest bound

More awful in her presence and her port

Looked not than she: high in her cloudy court

The rock-throned osprey, glancing sternly round

Through sun-lit air unshaken by a sound,

From low desires and the base world’s resort

Seemed elevated less: the dolphin’s sport

O’er foam-flecked waves and sapphire depths profound

Showed not a pageant to the eye of morn

More bright. Her thoughts were in the purple born;

Her eye was empery; she gave the nod,

And all obeyed; all earthly powers with scorn

She noted; yea, the fane itself she trod

As though she were the sister of a god!