The Poems of Sir William Watson | ||
TERMONDE
In wrecked Termonde, that 'mid the tramp and bellowOf War's mad herd saw ruin on ruin piled,
The enemy had deflowered with havoc wild
A fair abode of Sculpture without fellow;
And while the autumn sunlight rich and mellow
On Art's poor shattered glories sadly smiled,
There, still unmaimed, with her unwounded child,
Leaned a serene Madonna of Donatello.
O'er a fledged Hermes, lord of speed and spoil—
O'er a bemired and fall'n Laocoön—
Near a prone Venus of the dust, she shone.
O'er winged Deceit, and Agony's serpent coil,
And Beauty born to inflame and to entoil,
Motherhood, scatheless, lived divinely on.
1915
The Poems of Sir William Watson | ||