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.