Note 39 — Chapter II · Abbot Suger and St. Denis-en-France

Since God but acts for pity of us here, So Geneviève must see her France in shreds, And Paris, her own godchild, swept by flames, And ravaged by the most sinister hordes. And hearts devoured by blackest base discords, And even in their graves the dead pursued, On gibbets many an innocent hung high With tongue protruding, pecked by raven birds. France all despair. Then saw she come the Sign, A greater marvel never God had willed In His Serenity and Grace and Force, After nine hundred-twenty vigil years Geneviève saw approach her ancient city Her of Lorraine, emblem of God’s pure pity— Jeanne the Maid!— Guarding her heart intact in dire adversity, Masking beneath her visor her efficacity, Living in deep mystery with sweet sagacity, Dying in drear martyrdom with brave vivacity Sweeping all an army to the feet of Prayer.