Out on thy strife
Of winds and birds!--See, see the golden spears
Gleam through the dust, and desperate charioteers
And Death and Life
Sweep by all wildly blent!--See, see how flash
The helmets in the sun, as onward dash
The waves of war! The very air seems rife
With goading Gods who wield an unseen lash!
O Sun, shine down
On Freedom’s ranks; pour strength into their hearts,
And blind the foe with thy resistless darts!
On, on! the crown
Is for you all, both those who live and die!
See, see, they waver! now they turn and fly
In wild mad rout and trample down their own,
While thick as autumn leaves their strewn dead lie.
And as decrease
The rattle and the roar, the crash and cries,
Triumphant hymns from all the vast plain rise,
And never cease
To shake the stars.--Sound high, sound high, my strings!
For from the bloodstained dust the laurel springs;
Ay, and the olive with its fruit of peace,
And freedom’s garnered grain and earth’s best things!