16 HAROLD BEGBIE
��But we expect your mighty voice
With judgment through the world to run,
O land of freedom, make your choice, Are you for Belgium or the Hun ?
We ask not that your shells should shriek
Above the flaming hills we climb, But speak, O sons of Lincoln, speak !
Silence in such an hour is crime. Your children judge you if you stand
In hearing of the Belgian cry, Not only with the folded hand,
But with the cold, averted eye !
The soul has got its piercing steel.
The heart its fierce consuming fire, Oh, make your voice like thunder peal,
All nations of the earth inspire ! We know your heart for Belgium bleeds.
But speak your soul, declare your mind. Speak till the sin-red tyrant heeds
The voice of God and all mankind.
— Harold Beghie.
�� �
