The children of the citadel
conquered
all
Their conquerors, smiting them with the pure light
That shone in that strong city fortified.
Their conquerors, smiting them with the pure light
That shone in that strong city fortified.
George Lathrop - Dreams and Days
They passed the gates; they stood upon a hill
Enclosed, but in that strong enclosure free!
Though earth opposed, they held the key to heaven.
On came the turbulent multitude in war,
Dashing against the city's walls; and swept
Through all the streets, and robbed and burned and killed.
The walls were strong; the gates were always open.
And so the invader rioted, and was proud.
But sudden, in seeming triumph, the enemy host
Was stricken with death; and still the city stayed.
Skyward the souls of its defenders rose,
Returning soon in mist intangible
That flashed with radiance of half-hidden swords;
And those who still assaulted--though they crept
Into the inmost vantage-points, with craft--
Fell, blasted namelessly by this veiled flash,
Even as they shouted out, "The place is ours! "
So those two pilgrims dwelt there, fortified
In that strong city men had thought so frail.
They died, and lived again. Fiercest attack
Was as a perfumed breeze to them, which drew
Their souls still closer unto God. And there
Beauty and splendor bloomed untouched. The stars
Spoke to them, bidding them be of good cheer,
Though hostile hordes rushed over them in blood.
And still the prayers of all that people rose
As incense mingled with music of their hearts.
For Christ was with them: angels were their aid.
What though the enemy used their open gates?
The children of the citadel conquered all
Their conquerors, smiting them with the pure light
That shone in that strong city fortified.
THREE DOVES
Seaward, at morn, my doves flew free;
At eve they circled back to me.
The first was Faith; the second, Hope;
The third--the whitest--Charity.
Above the plunging surge's play
Dream-like they hovered, day by day.
At last they turned, and bore to me
Green signs of peace thro' nightfall gray.
No shore forlorn, no loveliest land
Their gentle eyes had left unscanned,
'Mid hues of twilight-heliotrope
Or daybreak fires by heaven-breath fanned.
Quick visions of celestial grace,--
Hither they waft, from earth's broad space,
Kind thoughts for all humanity.
They shine with radiance from God's face.
Ah, since my heart they choose for home,
Why loose them,--forth again to roam?
Yet look: they rise! with loftier scope
They wheel in flight toward heaven's pure dome.
Fly, messengers that find no rest
Save in such toil as makes man blest!
Your home is God's immensity:
We hold you but at his behest.
V
ARISE, AMERICAN!
The soul of a nation awaking,--
High visions of daybreak,--I saw;
A people renewed; the forsaking
Of sin, and the worship of law.
Sing, pine-tree; shout, to the hoarser
Response of the jubilant sea!