How dear the sky has been above this place! <br />Small treasures of this sky that we see here <br />Seen weak through prison-bars from year to year; <br />Eyed with a painful prayer upon God's grace <br />To save, and tears which stayed along the face <br />Lifted at sunset. Yea, how passing dear <br />Those nights when through the bars a wind left clear <br />The heaven, and moonlight soothed the limpid space! <br />So was it, till one night the secret kept <br />Safe in low vault and stealthy corridor <br />Was blown abroad on gospel-tongues of flame. <br />O ways of God, mysterious evermore! <br />How many on this spot have cursed and wept <br />That all might stand here now and own Thy Name.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/place-de-la-bastille-paris/
