Verse > Anthologies > George Herbert Clarke, ed. > A Treasury of War Poetry
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George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953).  A Treasury of War Poetry.  1917.
 
26. To the Belgians
 
By Laurence Binyon
 
 
O RACE that Cæsar knew,
That won stern Roman praise,
What land not envies you
The laurel of these days?
 
You built your cities rich        5
Around each towered hall,—
Without, the statued niche,
Within, the pictured wall.
 
Your ship-thronged wharves, your marts
With gorgeous Venice vied.        10
Peace and her famous arts
Were yours: though tide on tide
 
Of Europe’s battle scourged
Black field and reddened soil,
From blood and smoke emerged        15
Peace and her fruitful toil.
 
Yet when the challenge rang,
“The War-Lord comes; give room!”
Fearless to arms you sprang
Against the odds of doom.        20
 
Like your own Damien
Who sought that leper’s isle
To die a simple man
For men with tranquil smile,
 
So strong in faith you dared        25
Defy the giant, scorn
Ignobly to be spared,
Though trampled, spoiled, and torn,
 
And in your faith arose
And smote, and smote again,        30
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        35
Prevails and shall prevail.
 
Still for your frontier stands
The host that knew no dread,
Your little, stubborn land’s
Nameless, immortal dead.        40
 

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