Notre Dame de la Belle-Verriere

By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

Above Thy halo's burning blue

For ever hovers the White Dove;

Thy heart enshrines, for ever new,

The Cross — the Crown of all Thy love;

While, sapphire wing on sapphire wing,

About Thee choiring angels swing

Gold censers, and bright candles bear.

Because I have no heart to sing,

I come to Thee with all my care,

Notre Dame de la Belle-Verriere.

Because the sword hath pierced Thy side,

Thy brows are crowned with circling gold.

The woe of all the world doth hide

Within Thy mantle's azure fold.

Because Thou, too, hast dwelt with fears,

Through lingering days and endless years,

I find no comfort otherwhere,

Our Lady beautiful with tears,

Our Lady sorrowfully fair,

Notre Dame de la Belle-Verriere.

My feet have travelled the hot road

Between the poppies’ barren fires;

But now I cast aside the load

Of burning hopes and wild desires

That ever fierce and fiercer grew.

Thy peace falls like a falling dew

Upon me as I kneel in prayer,

Because Thou hast known sorrow, too,

Because Thou, too, hast known despair,

Notre Dame de la Belle-Verriere.