The lovelier grace as lyric flowers,
     Those rosed and starred revolving Twelves
     Shall nurse for effort infinite
     While leashed to brain the heart of France the Fair
     Beats tempered music and its lead subserves. 
     Washed from her eyes the Napoleonic glare,
     Divinely raised by that in her divine,
     Not the clear sight of Earth’s blunt actual swerves
     When her lost look, as on a wave of wine,
     Rolls Eastward, and the mother-flag descries
     Caress with folds and curves
     The fortress over Rhine,
     Beneath the one tall spire. 
     Despite her brooding thought, her nightlong sighs,
     Her anguish in desire,
     She sees, above the brutish paw
     Alert on her still quivering limb —
     As little in past time she saw,
     Nor when dispieced as prey,
     As victrix when abhorred —
     A Grand Germania, stout on soil;
     Audacious up the ethereal dim;
     The forest’s Infant; the strong hand for toil;
     The patient brain in twilights when astray;
     Shrewdest of heads to foil and counterfoil;
     The sceptic and devout; the potent sword;
     With will and armed to help in hewing way
     For Europe’s march; and of the most golden chord
     Of the Heliconian lyre
     Excellent mistress.  Yea, she sees, and can admire;
     Still seeing in what walks the Gallia leads;
     And with what shield upon Alsace-Lorraine
     Her wary sister’s doubtful look misreads
     A mother’s throbs for her lost:  so loved:  so near: 
     Magnetic.  Hard the course for her to steer,
     The leap against the sharpened spikes restrain. 
     For the belted Overshadower hard the course,
     On whom devolves the spirit’s touchstone, Force: 
     Which is the strenuous arm, to strike inclined,
     That too much adamantine makes the mind;
     Forgets it coin of Nature’s rich Exchange;
     Contracts horizons within present sight: 
     Amalekite to-day, across its range
     Indisputable; to-morrow Simeonite.

     X

     The mother who gave birth to Jeanne;
     Who to her young Angelical sprang;
     Who lay with Earth and heard the notes she sang,
     And heard her truest sing them; she may reach
     Heights yet unknown of nations; haply teach
     A thirsting world to learn ’tis ‘she who can.’

     She that in History’s Heliaea pleads
     The nation flowering conscience o’er the beast;
     With heart expurged of rancour, tame of greeds;
     With the winged mind from fang and claw released; —
     Will such a land be seen?  It will be seen; —
     Shall stand adjudged our foremost and Earth’s Queen. 
     Acknowledgement that she of God proceeds
     The invisible makes visible, as his priest,
     To her is yielded by a world reclaimed. 
     And stands she mutilated,