TO MELOS, POMEGRANATE ISLE.

By GRACE HARRIET MACURDY.

(Destroyed by Athens, 416 B.C., because of her refusal to break neutrality.—Thucydides V., 84-116; Euripides, "Trojan Women.")

O thou Pomegranate of the Sea, Sweet Melian isle, across the years Thy Belgian sister calls to thee In anguished sweat of blood and tears. Her fate like thine—a ruthless band Hath ravaged all her loveliness. How Athens spoiled thy prosperous land Athenian lips with shame confess. Thou, too, a land of lovely arts, Of potter's and of sculptor's skill— Thy folk of high undaunted hearts As those that throb in Belgium still. Within thy harbor's circling rim The warships long, with banners bright, Sailed bearing Athens' message grim— "God hates the weak. Respect our Might." The flame within thy fanes grew cold, Stilled by the foeman's swarming hordes. Thy sons were slain, thy daughters sold To serve the lusts of stranger lords. For Attic might thou didst defy Thy folk the foeman slew as sheep, Across the years hear Belgium's cry— "O Sister, of the Wine-Dark Deep, "Whose cliffs gleam seaward roseate. Not one of all my martyr roll But keeps his faith inviolate, Man kills our body, not our soul."