The Battle Song

FROM THE GREEK OF TYRTÆUS .

Shake off slumber — Men, arise!
Dare you meet the scorner's eyes?
War is safety, peace is fear,
Life is only in the spear.
Though ye perish, let the dart
Quiver in the slayer's heart!
Falling, dying, battle still, —
Glory 's in the warrior-will!
Death must strike us soon or late,
'T is the stern decree of fate:
Heroes, onwards, — press the targe
Close to the burning heart, and charge!
Push the spear! — Not Jove could save
His offspring from the common grave:
The coward and the brave must fall,
Death smites alike in field and hall.
Yet where 's the wife's, the people's tear,
Upon the flyer's culprit bier?
But, if the wound the brave man wring,
The people to his threshold cling;
He dies — they love the ground he trod;
Living, he lives a demi-god!
The nation's tower, beloved, adored —
An army in his single sword!
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