The bird and the bell, with other poems | ||
14
XXXIX.
She asks no boon, except to stand enrolledAmong the nations. Give her space and air,
Our Sister. She has pined in dungeons cold.
A little sunshine for our Sister fair,
A little hope to cover past despair.
God's blessing on the long-lost, the unbound!
The earth has waited long; the heavens now answer—“Found!”
The bird and the bell, with other poems | ||