Jerome Brooke Poems

In cold darkness, stood the tall tower,
Red, of glowing stone.
Among the shadows walked the Queen,
Our Lady Fair, alone.
...

Brave queen of chariot, queen of sail,
See the milling horde.
Truth and love, spear and sword,
Weep for your Lord.
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Wolves howl, chill warning,
Song of blood.
Hunters smile, men reach for spears,
Stone, one with wood.
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Thunder, cruel master, sounds far away,
Ashes blow in the sky.
Fear walks the street, cries ring out,
Filling the empty square.
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Around the lone, tired man, hunters,
Wolves, a circle formed.
Wolves, white wolves, howled,
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Flames, dreams, candles, shadows,
All dance in sight.
Flames on a far, dim hill, or near,
Close, in the night.
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Stars turn, slaying and burning,
Eyes flash.
Dawn searches, and night flees,
Bronze blades slash.
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Free the captives, return them to Cebu,
Their oaths sworn.
Spare the son of mine enemy, their King,
Fallen and torn.
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High, over the sea, stands the Lady,
With spear of gold.
On hills of pure silver, hard driven,
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In blackness stood the tower,
Built of black stone,
Among shadows walked,
Weeping, our lady, alone.
...