‘Thine is the victory, Meina!’—Was it won?
Won in its cold, bereaving cruelty?
Won from the pride of woman? from her love?
Won from thy boy! young mother? No! oh, no!
She had forgotten him! He was too young,
Too purely, beautifully young, to die!
And then the waves repeated to the shore,
And the light echo heard it: ‘Give him up!’
And Meina heard it: ‘Give him to thy God!’
And the strong heart arose! One arrowy pulse