There rose a wail of unending woe,
An anguished prayer from the deeps below:
"Oh! Mother, lift from our souls the curse!"
"Oh! Mother, quicken thy sacred womb,
With fire that throbs in the veins of Spring,
Behold the numbness of everything,
And only thou can avert the doom."
"Oh! Mother, hear us!" But silent still
The Earth slept on, as it were in death.
Her ice-bound bosom stirred not with breath,