"The smile," they called her, -- "La Sourire"; and fair -- A sculptured angel on the northern door Of the Cathedral's west facade -- she wore Through the long centuries of toil and care That smile, mysteriously wrought and rare, As if she saw brave visions evermore -- Kings, and an armored Maid who lilies bore, And all the glories that had once been there. How like to thee, her undefeated Land! Wounded by bursting shells, a little space Broken she lay beneath her ancient portal; But lifted from the earth with trembling hand, Victorious, still glowed upon her face Thy smile, heroic France, love-given and immortal! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUTUMN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE COMING OF WAR: ACTAEON by EZRA POUND THE POET (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG A COLONIAL MORNING DREAM by KAREN SWENSON GOD'S GARDEN by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE SUPPLIANTS: THE WORLD'S HARMONIOUS PLAN by AESCHYLUS |