Jerome Brooke Poems

Near the centre, near Saint Peters,
Stands the Crystal palace,
In the palace, near the silver fountain,
Sleeps our Queen, all in lace.
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Dark waves rise, then race at the shore,
Black nights of the soul.
At sea, pale clouds, and mist, hide memory,
Moments of joy, and sorrow.
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Dancer, spinning in silk, turn to me,
I do burn.
Lady in black, Maid of Fire, burn me,
Come, return.
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Wolves dance in circles of stone,
Children of Darkness.
Maidens spin, turn for the Lady,
Queen and High Priestess.
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Our Lady of Wolves, soft and kind,
Dance with us, brave one.
Run, leader of hunters, cruel and swift,
Slay her, the waiting, swift deer.
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I saw a lone bird, high in the morning light

I thought of your voice
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Gold I cast before you, the vanquished stand in chains,
Captives all, rebels now lost.
Fallen kings do lie in pools of blood, red and torn,
What matters the cost?
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In the North Sea, nigh Borae, land of the red rubies,
Lay our fleet, in the wild sea.
Over the cruel waves, dark and without mercy,
Sailed forth the dread ships, of our Lady.
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Empress of the waves, Warrior Queen,
Ruler of the bold.
Lead us to battle, lead us to jewels,
And to red gold.
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Fast, fast the river flows,
White with waves.
Speeding thru cold years,
Icy, dark days.
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