La Belgique ne regrette rien (Belgium regrets nothing) 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.
In 1916, Wharton was given France's highest prize, appointed Chevalier of the Legion of Honour, for her contribution to the War effort. We feature her poem in our collection of World War I Literature.
Return to the Edith Wharton library , or . . . Read the next poem; Botticelli's Madonna in the Louvre