Destroyers and Other Verses/Paris. April, 1916

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PARIS. APRIL, 1916.

"Ils vantaient notre esprit, jamais notre endurance."

How silent are the streets of this grave town;Discordant vanity is swept away,And mourners everywhere pass up and down,Sombring the radiance of an April day.Here all men wear the inward, brooding lookOf a young mother, when her time is near,Devoid of fear.She knows the agony of hope still-born,And, once before, her body racked and tornWas at the last denied its victory.
How can we understand,Whose land inviolate was clogged with dreams?They with a single purpose are imbued,That like a mighty river onward streamsIn multitudinous channels ruthlessly,Past tangled isles and barriers of sand,Until its irresistible waters rollTo their triumphal goal,With all-embracing, silent fortitude.
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