THE BURDEN OF AUSTRIA

O daughter of pride, wasted with misery,

With all the glory that thy shame put on

Stripped off thy shame, O daughter of Babylon,

Yea, whoso be it, yea, happy shall he be

That as thou hast served us hath rewarded thee.

Blessed, who throweth against war's boundary stone

Thy warrior brood, and breaketh bone by bone

Misrule thy son, thy daughter Tyranny.

That landmark shalt thou not remove for shame,

But sitting down there in a widow's weed

Wail; for what fruit is now of thy red fame?

Have thy sons too and daughters learnt indeed

What thing it is to weep, what thing to bleed?

Is it not thou that now art but a name? ( ii )