The Broken Wing/Invincible

​Invincible

O Fate, betwixt the grinding-stones of Pain,Tho' you have crushed my life like broken grain,Lo! I will leaven it with my tears and kneadThe bread of Hope to comfort and to feedThe myriad hearts for whom no harvests blow  Save bitter herbs of woe.
Tho' in the flame of sorrow you have thrustMy flowering soul and trod it into dust,Behold, it doth reblossom like a groveTo shelter under quickening boughs of LoveThe myriad souls for whom no gardens bloom  Save bitter buds of doom.
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