Threnody

I never have known anyone so proud,

So fierce for faith, so strong for nobleness.

I never heard you whine nor cry distress,

Nor saw you kneel nor knew your bright head bowed.

Dreams, Love and Laughter were a swift, white crowd

Of wings flashed upward from your loveliness,

You carried Truth, wore Honor as a dress

And wound yourself in Beauty like a cloud.

Surely this is not you who lies so low,

Smitten as others, yielding as they must

With abject hands and smooth, submissive head,

All fire and glory crumpled by one blow,

Bewildered and beaten and brought to dust,

This is not you, oh pitiful and dead!