16 SEPTEMBER 1899, Page 14



THY vengeance, God of old, upon the Gaul I

For retribution as for rain we call !

Is there not passion where Thy tempests roll, Or in Thy thunder some tremendous soul ?

We praise Thy patience of the growing hour, Thy wisdom gradual that brings the flower ; But sudden intervention now we pray, And flaming ire as in the elder day Thou that didst rush to war, Thou more than Mars !

Didst lead 'gainst Sisera the armbd stars ; Thou that in ancient days didst hear, didst see, When Pharaoh would not set Thy people free; Lord of the darkness upon Egypt sent ; That darkness hurl on France, that she repent !

That plague upon her pour, and bend that bow, That she may let the child of Israel go !