Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Asia: Vols. XXI–XXIII. 1876–79.
Santa Filomena
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (18071882)W
Whene’er is spoken a noble thought,
Our hearts, in glad surprise,
To higher levels rise.
Into our inmost being rolls,
And lifts us unawares
Out of all meaner cares.
Thus help us in our daily needs,
And by their overflow
Raise us from what is low.
Of the great army of the dead,
The trenches cold and damp,
The starved and frozen camp,—
In dreary hospitals of pain,
The cheerless corridors,
The cold and stony floors.
A lady with a lamp I see
Pass through the glimmering gloom,
And flit from room to room.
The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
Her shadow, as it falls
Upon the darkening walls.
Opened and then closed suddenly,
The vision came and went,
The light shone and was spent.
Hereafter of her speech and song,
That light its rays shall cast
From portals of the past.
In the great history of the land,
A noble type of good,
Heroic womanhood.
The palm, the lily, and the spear,
The symbols that of yore
Saint Filomena bore.