Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/45

 G. ROUNTREE HARVEY

2/A.M.,

The Maid of France

OAN heard a Voice above the whispering trees:

"Arise, scatter mine enemies!"

She took a banner, but no sword—

Veterans hung on her lightest word;

And, ah, the splendour of the fight,

Proud victory where right was might! . ..

Alas! that ruling frailty could

So mar and betray such glorihood. . ..

Prisoned, fettered to an iron ring,

Her spirit knew no prisoning!

They burned her body at a stake of shame—

As who would quench a flame with flame!

But out of the pyre men watched upsoar

Her grail-like soul, that evermore

Gleams above the lily meads—

And men still follow where she leads. . ..

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