The Blogger messed up the original format of the poem, so it lost some of it's elegance. Enjoy it any way!
You say I am yours, but hear the truth from me:
by your hands I was raised and by your artists
but here I stand a goddess over all.
My voice is the ringing of colossal bronze bells,
at my door stand piers of stone to guard against intruders.
The crown on my head of pale white stone
stabs at the sky, straight as spears and sharp
You gave me my throne in the center of your city—
a good place for a queen—
and protect me with motes and steadfast bridges.
Upon my walls and towers are gruesome
wings on their backs and fangs in their mouths,
claws reaching out to halt bad spirits.
As if for protection from my gargoyle knights,
the saints have come to stand in my doors,
winged angels with crowns have come down
to perch with my knights.
My greatness is vast for even the Virgin,
with her holy child so small,
sit upon my window to watch as my
With my army—saints, angels, gargoyles—
I stand lofty and proud, not be claimed
by any man.
Instead, I shall give myself to you like a
bride in white. Come to my doors,
claim your sanctuary; with my stone army
I will protect those
I am your Lady.