Poem by Edith Wharton

Belgium

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. 

1. With the Tide
2. Faun’s Song
3. Chartres
4. Mould and Vase
5. Song (Come, for the leaf is alight)

Ella Wilcox Belgium ("Ruined? Destroyed? Ah, no; though blood in rivers ran")

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