Classic Poem

Hail, Hannibal! to thee
Belong the land and sea!
Before thee foemen flee
Like frightened horses!
The legions of the State
Thy valor consecrate,
And ever victorious great
Crown all our forces!

Thou art above all law,
Supreme and without flaw;
We follow thee with awe
And passive wonder!
We reverence thy choice,
And in thy deeds rejoice;
The war-cry of thy voice
Is like a thunder!

Oh Hannibal! we crave
From thee a soldier's grave,
When with a dripping glaive
We strike the foemen;
And if we have to die,
Let our last battle-cry
Ascend to Bel on high
O'er corses Roman!

The maidens of the foe
Are soft and warm, we know;
We love the ruby glow
Of their sweet blushes.
Oh Victor! lead to Rome
Thy legions through the foam,
And give to us a home
Near Roman rushes!

We long to smite and burn,
And childish pity spurn;
For blaring camps we yearn,
And deadly battle!
We long to make more slaves,
And dig great Roman graves,
Or hurl them to the waves
Like sickened cattle!

Oh Hannibal! arise
With vengeance in thine eyes!
Answer our battle-cries,
So that thy glory,
Thy glory great and vast,
When we from earth have passed,
May for all ages last
In song and story!