Lights that outlast the lightnings; yet my heart

Endures not to make proof of thine or these,

Not yet to know thee whom I made, and bare

What manner of woman; had I borne thee man,

I had made no question of thine eyes or heart,

Nor spared to read the scriptures in them writ,

Wert thou my son; yet couldst thou then but die

Fallen in sheer fight by chance and charge of spears

520

And have no more of memory, fill no tomb

More famous than thy fellows in fair field,

Where many share the grave, many the praise;

But one crown shall one only girl my child

Wear, dead for this dear city, and give back life

[Pg 30]

To him that gave her and to me that bare,

And save two sisters living; and all this,

Is this not all good? I shall give thee, child,

Thee but by fleshly nature mine, to bleed

For dear land's love; but if the city fall

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