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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Obscured the sun, the world is dark;
Maid of Orleans, Joan of Arc,
   Send down thy spark.

Let every heart in France be stirred,
By such an all-compelling word
   As thou once heard.

Say to each soul, Lo! I am near;
My voice still speaks in accents clear.
   Be still and hear.

The France I saved can not be lost;
Though tempest-torn and terror-tossed,
   Count not the cost.

Give as the maid of Domrémy
Gave all-gave life itself to see
   Her country free.

Back of great France my spirit towers
To aid her through the darkest hours
   With Gods own powers!

Maid of Orleans, Joan of Arc,
Shine through the night, speak through the dark
   The while we hark.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Opal
  2. The Awakening (I love the tropics, where sun and rain)
  3. The Chain
  4. At Forty-Eight
  5. Artist and Man

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