<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Broken Rose</h1><h1 align="center" class="head"><span class="smallcaps">To King Albert</span></h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Shy</span>, youthful, silent -- and misunderstood</p><p class="line">In the white glare of Kinghood thou didst stand.</p><p class="line">The sceptre in thy hand</p><p class="line">Seemed but a flower the Fates had tossed to thee,</p><p class="line">And thou wert called, perchance half-scornfully,</p><p class="line">Albert the Good.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">To-day thou standest on a blackened grave,</p><p class="line">Thy broken sword still lifted to the skies.</p><p class="line">Thy pure and fearless eyes</p><p class="line">Gaze into Death's grim visage unappalled</p><p class="line">And by the storm-swept nations thou art called Albert the Brave.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Tossed on a blood-red sea of rage and hate</p><p class="line">The frenzied world rolls forward to its doom.</p><p class="line">But high above the gloom</p><p class="line">Flashes the fulgent beacon of thy fame,</p><p class="line">The nations thou hast saved exalt thy name --</p><p class="line">Albert the Great!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Albert the good, the brave, the great, thy land</p><p class="line">Lies at thy feet, a crushed and morient rose</p><p class="line">Trampled and desecrated by thy foes.</p><p class="line">One day a greater Belgium will be born,</p><p class="line">But what of this dead Belgium wracked and torn?</p><p class="line">What of this rose flung out upon the sand?...</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Behold! Afar where sky and waters meet</p><p class="line">A white-robed Figure walketh on the sea.</p><p class="line">(Peace goes before Him and her face is sweet.)</p><p class="line">As once He trod the waves of Galilee</p><p class="line">He comes again the tumult sinks to rest,</p><p class="line">The stormy waters shine beneath His feet.</p><p class="line">He sees the dead rose lying in the sand,</p><p class="line">He lifts the dead rose in His holy hand</p><p class="line">And lays it at His breast.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O broken rose of Belgium, thou art blest!</p></div><p class="byline">-- Annie Vivanti Chartres.</p></body></html> · Great War