Rheims Cathedral Poem by Maria Frances Cecilia Cowper

Long ages since, a band of earnest men,
With zealous hearts uplifted, sought to raise
A noble house in honour of their God.
Untiringly they laboured, day by day
And year by year with pious hands they wrought,
And lovingly they builded, till at last
The temple stood perfected, glorious,
Adorned with all the wealth of sculptor's art,
With matchless glass and delicate tracery,
A thing of beauty in the sight of men,
A fitting habitation for their God.
And through the centuries the world has stood
And marvelled at their building, and been glad,
Rejoicing in the work of these men's hands.
It has endured the ravages of time,
The buffetings of tempests, it has stood
While generations of the tribes of men
Have come, and lived their little day, and passed
Into the night ; a thousand memories
Have hallowed all its stones, a mighty line
Of kings has been anointed in its courts.
And here the Maid, victorious, to her king
Gave back his kingdom : it has heard the clash
Of armed hosts innumerable, waves
Of pitiless war have surged against its walls
And left it scatheless : ever it has stood
Unchangeable, remote, inviolate.
But now the Teuton, spreading in his path
Insensate devastation, like the Hun
That dared to call himself the Scourge of God,
With his foul hand has touched it, and where stood
The fairest thing in all the world, to-day
A blackened ruin stands. Lord God of Hosts,
Whose attribute is mercy, but to Whom
Vengeance alone belongs, forget not this :
Write large the record of their infamy,
That generations yet unborn may learn
And hold in execration this their deed.
Forget it not, but let their name be passed
A thing accursed on the lips of men,
Their memory be blackened for all time.
In days gone by men fought with men, but now
Men fight with God, nor fear to raise their hand
Against the Almighty. For a little while
May the presumptuous triumph, and their deeds
Go unrequited, but the Lord our God
Shall rise and smite them in His wrath at last.