The Great War

from A Treasury of War Poetry, an electronic edition


La Belgique ne regrette rien

Not with her ruined silver spires,

Not with her cities shamed and rent,

Perish the imperishable fires

That shape the homestead from the tent.

Wherever men are staunch and free,

There shall she keep her fearless state,

And homeless, to great nations be

The home of all that makes them great.