 | Poems |  |
44
LIBERTÉ
There is a goddess, and her throne is setFor ever in the mountains and the sea;
The waves are red and all the soil is wet
With the eternal battles of the free.
For many fiends and evil giants come
To take the goddess and her name away.
Yet hears she not the rock-reëchoed drum,
Nor sees the tumult and the bloody spray.
No hand has ever won so nigh to stir
The wreath that lies upon her waveless brow;
Still high she sits for all to worship her,
Though storm sweeps round her yesterday and now.
Think of our children when her face you see,
And fight, that they may look on Deity.
| Poems | |