Triumphant over foes without, within.

Thy Notre Dame, thy little hells, O France;

The good and evil, working both—but God!

THE RED MAPLE

A master artist in the sun-kissed leaves

Of a scarlet maple loved by me for years,

First paints a verdant robe until appears

The autumn time, then marvel great conceives.

Through darkest night, high noon, and splendent eves

His wondrous work goes on, unknown to fears,