Classic Poem

Glorious is death, when thou in the first line gallantly fallest,
Fallest in fight for thy land, diest for city and home.
Up, then, with soul on fire to defend the soil of thy fathers,
Hasten to offer thy life gladly when opens the fray!
Forward, young men, march forward in close and unwavering order,
Never a tremor of fear, never a thought of retreat!
Shamed and dishonored an army, when young men, last in the phalanx,
Look on their elders in front, see where they bleed and are slain.
Ever the foremost place is the place of the youth, while he weareth
Still on his lovely locks garlanded flowers of spring.
Fair unto women, and noble to men in his lifetime he seemeth;
Beautiful even in death, slain in the midst of the fight.