Upon the iron crags of War I heard his terrible daughters
In battle speak while at their feet,
In gulfs of human waters,
A voice, intoning, "Where is God?" in ceaseless sorrow beat:
And to my heart, in doubt, I said,
"God?—God's above the storm!
O heart, be brave, be comforted,
And keep your hearth-stone warm
For her who breasts the storm—
God's Peace, the fair of form."
I heard the Battle Angels cry above the slain's red mountains,
While from their wings the lightnings hurled
Of Death's destroying fountains,
And thunder of their revels rolled around the ruined world:
Still to my heart, in fear, I cried,
"God?—God is watching there!
My heart,—oh, keep the doorway wide
Here in your House of Care,
For her who wanders there,
God's Peace, with happy hair."