The Great War

from Poems of the Great War, an electronic edition

Heart of All the World


Heartstruck she stands -- Our Lady of all Sorrows --

Circled with ruin, sunk in deep amaze;

Facing the shadow of her dark to-morrows,

Mourning the glory of her yesterdays.

Yet is she queen by every royal token,

There, where the storm of desolation swirled:

Crowned only with the thorn -- despoiled and broken --

Her kingdom is the heart of all the world.

She made her breast a shield, her sword a splendor,

She rose like flame upon the darkened ways;

So, through the anguish of her proud surrender

Breaks the clear vision of undying praise.