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Woman, In Germany
The German mother has too long been whatA Chancellor once called the "Kingdom's Cow."
Ah, as she bears the droves for slaughter, how
Her dumb-beast eyes crave pity for her lot!
See, there she smiles, like loving God forgot--
All His supernal patience on her brow.
How long must her grand arch of brain, as now,
Bear up a universe "of what should not"?
There, lies she, crushed by troops in hot pursuit
Of mocking shadows; for be Gain complete,
What is it but twin brother to defeat?
Stand up the dead on any bloody route.
Stoop for no kiss from orphans, at thy feet,
O Triumph! for ash-cord is all thy fruit.
(The end)
Edward Doyle's poem: Woman, In Germany
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