The End and the Beginning

The deed is done, O Kings: the blood is shed:
   The sword is broken:—broken, too, the Cross.
But she, the mother eternal of the dead,
   Though sorrow-laden, smiles at the loss.

You go down grimed with the blood and smoke of wars;
   Your armies scattered and your banners furled;
She comes down covered with the dust of stars,
   And gives her life again to build the world.