Voice of a great wind, of wild ocean surges, <br />Storming the gates of Heaven, <br />The people of God singing under the scourges <br />Wherewith they are healed and shriven. <br /> <br />This is no sound, no wail of lamentation <br />Such as of old was heard <br />When Rachael cried to Heaven her desolation <br />Until all Heaven was stirred. <br /> <br />The people sing, crushed in the wine-press ruddy, <br />Broken but not dismayed, <br />The triumph-song of the soul over the body <br />Heaven-lifted, angel-stayed. <br /> <br />The white sorrow homes to the heavenly portal. <br />This grief, this grief has wings -- <br />Blood on her breast, but through the groves immortal <br />Her song of triumph rings.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-great-sorrow/
