An Easter Message
By BEATRICE BARRY.
Into what depths of misery thou art hurled,
Belgium, thou second Saviour of the World!
Thou who hast died
For all of Europe, lo, we bathe thy feet
So cruelly pierced, and find the service sweet,
Thou crucified.
But though we mourn thy agony and loss,
And weep beneath the shadow of thy cross—
We know the day
That brings the resurrection and the life
Shall dawn for thee when war and all its strife
Hath passed away.
Then, out of all her travail and her pain,
Belgium, though crushed to earth, shall rise again;
And on the sod
Whence sprang a race so strong, so free from guile,
Men shall behold, in just a little while,
The smile of God.
Land of the brave—soon, by God's grace, the free—
Thy woe is transient; joy shall come to thee;
It cannot fail.
The darkest night gives way to rosy dawn,
And thou, perchance, shalt see on Easter morn,
The Holy Grail.