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Oscar Wilde - Queen Henrietta Maria
Work rating: Medium

.        IN the lone tent, waiting for victory,
            She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain,
            Like some wan lily overdrenched with rain:
          The clamorous clang of arms, the ensanguined sky,
          War`s ruin, and the wreck of chivalry,
            To her proud soul no common fear can bring:
            Bravely she tarrieth for her Lord the King,
          Her soul a-flame with passionate ecstasy.
          O Hair of Gold! O Crimson Lips! O Face
            Made for the luring and the love of man!                  


            With thee I do forget the toil and stress,
          The loveless road that knows no resting place,
            Time`s straitened pulse, the soul`s dread weariness,
            My freedom and my life republican!
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