TO THE TRUE FRANCE.
Magdalene of the nations who hast passed
Through paroxysms of fierce ecstasy
And cruelest crucifixion; stormy child
Cast by the Church upon the atrocious years;
Untamed and best beloved daughter of God,
Adorable in passion, grand in tears,
Sublime in victory! how God must long
To win you wholly who are so much His.
For when you most rebel and mock the Cross
You stretch yourself upon it for the world,
And in our day you have made plain again
The mystery of life sprung out of pain.
Through you the miracle is still alive,
Daughter of dreams, that nobly scorn the trust
That other nations place in artifice,
And from your ancient citadel of thought
Survey without solicitude their power,
Relying on the sovereignty of mind,
Safe in the immortality of faiths.
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