Their love-life to begin,
And mine now—where?
Their nest to win,
Mine soon to be bare!
I lookt forth from my bed
To the cold square of the light—
Unto God I said,
"Show me why men must fight,
"You, Who to each one say,
Love you one another;
You, Who bid women obey
Husbands, and sons their mother;
"You, Who of me require
To love what I cannot see,
Milk and a heart of fire
To nourish what may not be!
"Shall my milk be churn'd into gall,
Or my blood freeze at the fount,
And You make light of it all,
And my love of little account?"
Then as I held my throat,
God answer'd me by a bird,
One long flourishing note,
The bravest I ever heard;
And I turn'd where my love lay fast
In his wholesome sleep;
About him my arms I cast
And found grace to weep.
He would do what was right,
As I knew very well—
Yes, but who made them fight,
And turn'd our heaven to hell?
The more I listen the sighs,
The mourning and the dearth,
The deeper my heart cries
Over this wounded earth.