Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/201

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
191
SONNETS WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914


III

Harken, the feet of the Destroyer tread
 The wine-press of the nations; fast the blood
 Pours from the side of Europe; in full flood
On the septentrional watershed
The rivers of fair France are running red!
 England, the mother-eyrie of our brood,
 That on the summit of dominion stood,
Shakes in the blast: heaven battles overhead!


Lift up thy head, O Rheims, of ages heir
 That treasured up in thee their glorious sum;
Upon whose brow, prophetically fair,
 Flamed the great morrow of the world to come;
Haunt with thy beauty this volcanic air
 Ere yet thou close, O Flower of Christendom!