A little Belgian and an old violin—

A short, dumpy, melancholy little Belgian

And a very fine old violin….

An inconsequential small Belgian

Wearing a discouraged bit of mustache,

American "store" clothes that didn\'t fit,

Cheap American shoes, shined but shapeless….

(And yet he had often played in high honor

Before great audiences in Belgium;

But that was before Hell\'s lid was lifted

Somewhere in the North of Germany—

May it be clamped down, hard, before long!)

So this shabby, fat, discouraged oldish Belgian

(Too old and fat for military service),

And his very old beautiful violin,

(Borrowed—he\'d lost his better one to his conquerors),

Appeared before a dubious tag-end of an audience

In a music hall built in the woods

Near an American summer resort,

And played a dozen selections for forty-five dollars.

Then we learned why he had often played in high honor

Before great audiences in Belgium;

And why his king and his country

Had given him the honors he still wore,

The riches recently taken away

By his conquerors.

Then we saw what manner of man he was,

How that his soul was finely clad, upright,

Nobly statured, crowned with Apollo\'s bays.

Then we knew, when he played Tartini\'s sonata for violin,

That Belgium would own once more

Its little plac............