The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/The Foe

by Dora Sigerson Shorter

THE FOE

My foe did strike me, Lord, I am not meek,
I cannot turn to him the other cheek,
Rather to Thee for vengeance do I cry,
Tooth for a tooth, dear Lord, eye for an eye.

Had he but felled me, giving blow for blow,
My rage had little flame, my hate were slow,
I could forgive stood he to me alone,
But through those dearer souls he reached my own.

Oh, brave heads slain, grey locked and darkly brown,
I saw you bleed beneath the martyr's crown,
Dear eyes that closed on unfulfilled desire,
I saw you robbed of your celestial fire.

Pale lips that cried one prayer in parting breath,
I knew you dumb in silence and in death.
My foe hath struck me, Lord, I am not meek,
I cannot turn to him the other cheek.