Woman, In Germany

The German mother has too long been what A 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.