To the Belgians
Yet when the challenge rang,
‘ The War-Lord comes ; give room! ’
Fearless to arms you sprang
Against the odds of doom.
Like your own Damian
Who sought that lepers’ isle
To die a simple man
For men with tranquil smile,
So strong in faith you dared
Defy the giant, scorn
Ignobly to be spared,
Though trampled, spoiled, and torn,
And in your faith arose
And smote, and smote again,
Till those astonished foes
Reeled from their mounds of slain,
The faith that the free soul,
Untaught by force to quail,
Through fire and dirge and dole
Prevails and shall prevail.
