LA PENSEE
XQUISITE fairy, flower from stone begotten
Sprung into sudden shape of maidenhood,
Hast thou thy father’s anguish all forgotten?
Hast thou a balm, who hast hardly understood?
Is not thy beauty for his comfort moulded,
Thy joy and purity his won reward ?
Sweet blush of blood, pale blossom lightly folded,
To thee did he carve his way by right of sword ?
Thou who art all delight to all of us,
Hast thou no special intimate caress
For him whose bloody sweat stood murderous
On the writhen brow, the bosom of distress ?
Ay! for his anguish thou art gain enough—
One thought, worth all Earth’s fame, and gold, and love!
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