Belgium

Across the fields of peaceful Belgium came
Those lawless hosts, rampant, flamed with lust ;
They piled with ruin, burned with wanton flame
Its homes and monuments—razed to the dust
The sculptured beauty that the centuries fled
Bequeath'd had to the world ; wrought Calumny ;
Ravished and bared to vestal sanctity,
Treading beneath their feet its hallow'd dead.
But like some god awaken'd from his dreams,
Latent with power, small, yet of Titan worth,
Belgium arose ; she, mid the flames of Rheims,
Dying, was of a giant soul giv'n birth,
And then to aid this people, heroes, great,
England arose and fled her eastern gate.