Page:Songs before sunrise (IA beforesunrisongs00swinrich).pdf/288

 And aching with her fires that set, And shuddering ere dawn bursts her bars, Burns out with all her beaten stars.

In this black wind of war they fly Now, ere that hour be in the sky That brings back hope, and memory back, And light and law to lands that lack; That spiritual sweet hour whereby The bloody-handed night and black Shall be cast out of heaven to die; Kingdom by kingdom, crown by crown, The fires of darkness are blown down.

Yet heavy, grievous yet the weight Sits on us of imperfect fate. From wounds of other days and deeds Still this day's breathing body bleeds; Still kings for fear and slaves for hate Sow lives of men on earth like seeds In the red soil they saturate; And we, with faces eastward set, Stand sightless of the morning yet.

And many for pure sorrow's sake Look back and stretch back hands to take