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Under the moon's white flagI meet my ambushed dreams,I see the foe—Whom I have faced and put to flight, I know!—Yielding his hosts to me;And in strong, vanquished hands I layMy weeping victory.
The NationLeonora Speyer


MARY MAGDALENE
I think that Mary MagdaleneWas just a woman who went to dine,And her jewels covered her empty heartAnd her gown was the color of wine.
I think that Mary MagdaleneSat by a stranger with shining head."Haven't we met somewhere?" she asked,"Magdalene! Mary!" he said.
I think that Mary MagdaleneFell at his feet and called his name;Sat at his feet and wept her woeAnd rose up clean of shame.
Nobody knew but Magdalene,Mary, the woman who went to dine;Nobody saw how he broke the breadAnd poured for her peace the wine.
This is the story of Magdalene—It isn't the tale the Apostles tell,But I know the woman it happened to,I know the woman well.
The NationLeonora Speyer

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