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THE BRITISH LION TO THE BELGIAN.

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THE BRITISH LION TO THE BELGIAN. Here's a God-speed to the Lion that, in troublous times of yore, In Brabant and old Flanders stood to guard his native shore: Springing, at ring of Roland,* to wa'ch-tower and to wall, 'Gainst Spaniard, aud Hollander, 'gainst Austrian aud Gaul. "For defence an l not defiance" the Flemish tocsin rung "For defence and not defiance" were Flemish crossbows strung "For defence and not defiance her strength now Belgium bauds; "For defence and not defiance," Britain's sons with hers clasp hands. Her cause of old was ours, the cause of free speech and free thought The triumph of her cause, like ours, with civic blood was bought. Both guardians of homes and hearths, of liberties and law, Behoved the British Lion grasp the Belgian Lioll's paw. The welcome that you gave us we have given back to you. In spite of all red-tape, routine, or blundering might do Though aboard of the Serapis beds and breakfasts miglit be spare. Though Guildhall tables, for the nonce, groaned under meagre fire- Though his mains St. Swithin opened, and emptied all his hose, And thing his wettest blanket on all our sports and shows Though no Queen bade you welcome when you feasted in her Court Though medallions and luncheons at Wimbledon fell short- Though the wind put out the fireworks and the fountains ¡ blew awry, And forbade your rifle-bullets to get home on the bull's-eye. Still, there was warmth of welcome, that kindled warmth again, And laughed to scorn shortcomings, short commons, wind, and rain. Yes, 'twas warm, if clumsy, welcome that England proffered you, Stout hearted civic soldiers, Flemish brethren, trained and true; A kindred blood, a common cause, and kindness to requite, j It was for these we gave, and you accepted the invite -Punch. The old tocsin-bell at Bruges.

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