Poetry of Albert Paul

NOTAE INRITAE

A couple of poems by my great uncle Albert Paul. Besides publishing many books on the lives of famous Catholics
he also edited a newspaper and wrote poetry. This is just a couple of examples of his work.
(Our family had immigrated to America from Luxembourg which explains his nostalgia for it.)

LITTLE LUXEMBOURG
For H. A. S. (Henry Albert)

O Little Land of Luxembourg,
    Fair peaceful corner of the world!
In councils high you have no part,
    Your ancient battle-flags are furled.
Your only spoils a people's heart,
    O Little Land of Luxembourg!

O Little Land of Luxembourg!
    I know your storied Keltic morn;
Romances of your youthful brow,
    The saints and heroes you have borne,
and crown of olives you wear now,
    O Little Land of Luxembourg!

O Little Land of Luxembourg!
    I sing of Siegfried's fairy wife,
The fabled tragic Melusin;
    Of Irmasinde's golden life
And John the Blind, your paladin,
    O Little Land of Luxembourg!

O Little Land of Luxembourg!
    You draw my exiled heart to you:
When shall your castled heights I see,
    And valleys which my father knew,
And at your shrines, when bend my knee,
    O Little Land of Luxembourg!

            Albert Paul
(Published in The Fortnightly Review)

A HORSEMAN FOR CHRIST
In memory of my brother, the Reverend Edward J.

They ride with Christ their Captain,
    The Cavaliers of God;
They ride in stainless armor,
    And high on silver rod
Each lifts his banner to the wind
    And to the sun his sword.
They ride on Glory's endless road,
    These Horsemen of the Lord.

Now he is one among them,
    Who rode for Christ on earth;
Who quested with a knightly heart
    And with Franciscan mirth;
Who kept him in the saddle,
    Though ease-at-hearth enticed;
Who braved the highway dangers
    And rode for love of Christ.

Now he is one among them,
    A Cavalier of God,
In mail like sun on drifted snow;
    And high on silver rod
He lifts his banner with the Name,
    And wears a virgin sword.
He rides with Christ his Captain
    This Horseman of the Lord.

            (Published in America)

MUSIC ALONE
(For P.J.)

Let sight be rested now,
Let only music tell,
All other senses bow
Surrendering farewell.

For music can alone
For touch and sight atone.
No hand can ever feel
The velvets that can steal
From chords of deep caress;
And eyes can give us less
Than music builds to see
On dewy mystic lea.

For music can alone
for speech and smell atone.
No mouth has ever said
To living or to dead
What music tells the heart
of things the world apart,
Like immaterial ships
That know no harbor slips.

No April-showered field,
No garden-close can yield
The odors that prevail
When music's gentle hail,
Like soft reluctant feet
On inward senses beat.

Let sight be rested now,
let only music tell,
All other senses bow
Surrendering farewell.

(Published)