Now is the heart of me filled,
Soul of me stilled;
Glad of Thy shepherding care,
Answering prayer!
FOEMAN
I stand
With drawn sword in my hand
To face
You for a space—
You! You!
Comrade, can this be true
That I
Must yield or die?
Those eyes,
Gray like November skies,
I feel
Sharper than steel....
One word
Before sword clash on sword
And stern
Wrath in us burn
Recall
The swift footfall
And mirth,
When the awakened earth
Grew glad
Of what we had—
Love, life,
Not this tremendous strife.
Rose-red
Petals were shed
With bloom
Of lilies in that room,