As one who, groping in a narrow stair,
Hath a strong sound of bells upon his ears,
Which, being at a distance off, appears
Quite close to him because of the pent air:
So with this France. She stumbles file and square
Darkling and without space for breath: each one
Who hears the thunder says: It shall anon
Be in among her ranks to scatter her.
This may be; and it may be that the storm
Is spent in rain upon the unscathed seas,
Or wasteth other countries ere it die:
Till she,having climbed always through the swarm
Of darkness and of hurtling sound,from these
Shall step forth on the light in a still sky.
The Staircase Of Notre Dame, Paris
written byDante Gabriel Rossetti
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti