The Belgian Mother and Ballads of Battle Time

As gallant knights, as valiant-souled crusaders,

You come from quests of peril o'er the sea;

From conflicts stern, against the brute invaders,

With laurels nobly won, you come to me.

In contest grim, the mightiest of the ages,

My banner through the carnage you have borne;

Your names are written large on Glory's pages,

I greet you, gallant soldiers, battle-worn.

Through all the years to be, I shall remember

The deeds you wrought, since first you sailed away;

Since flaming down through Belgium, that September,

The Prussian hell-hounds, baying, sought Calais.

There Ypres and St. Julien, shining glorious,

Red Courcelette and Vimy's Ridge aglow,

And many another unsung fight, victorious,

Wherein you clove a pathway through the foe.

You have returned with memories unfading,

Of prodigies performed in Freedom's name,

Of charging hosts and volley's enfilading,

And roaring craters curtained with death's flame.

Some come not back; in lands afar they're sleeping.

Who dies for Freedom fills no nameless grave;

Their memory enshrined all hearts are keeping,

So sleep remembered, all the gallant brave.

Yours is the place of honour in the nation;

Who dares for Right the highest shall command;

Who pours for Liberty his heart's libation

Shall win the grateful tribute of my land.