A Daughter of the States

She has the eyes of some barbarian Queen
Leading her wild tribes into battle; eyes,
Wherein th’ unconquerable soul defies,
And Love sits throned, imperious and serene.

And I have thought that Liberty, alone
Among her mountain stars, might look like her,
Kneeling to God, her only emperor,
Kindling her torch on Freedom’s altar-stone.

For in her self, regal with riches of
Beauty and youth, again those Queens seem born--
Boadicea, meeting scorn with scorn,
And Ermengarde, returning love for love.