Page:Near nature's heart; a volume of verse (IA nearnaturesheart00jack).pdf/99



O France, beloved; fickle, fearless France! What heights are thine and what unfathomed depths, From Roman old and Jupiter the great, To Notre Dame and her eternal day. Thy famous little "Ile de la cité," Birth place of Paris and a state renowned, And buoyant bosom of thy ceaseless Seine Were wronged by Vandal and the vicious Gaul, Coveted long by kings, and last by cunning Kaiser. Within, around thy growing heart, now gay, Now sad, now brave and true, now sick and vile, Epitome of man and race of men, Foretaste of Heaven and prelude to Hell— Thy lovers, far and near, have felt and fought, O France, for thee, and for thy perfect day.

NOTRE DAME.

Thy Notre Dame of yore and now—behold What records writ, and deeds unwritten more! Begun as shrine to gods unknown, but feared, Again the seat of power of the saints; Both natal place and tomb of King and priest; Dream attained of artist pioneer; And pomp and rites as varied as striking grand, Which brought the fathers from Jerusalem, The Romish pope to altars, solemn, high;