All forward to battle! the trumpets are crying,
All forward! all forward! our old flag is flying.
When liberty calls us, we linger no longer.
Ye tyrants, come on! Tho’ a thousand to one!
Hurrah for the banner, the flag of the free!
(_Enter_ ITALY, _dressed in National costume_.)
_FRANCE_:
Now, welcome, Sister Italy. I have looked for thy coming.
_BELGIUM_:
Twice welcome art thou, for I, too, hoped for your aid.
_BRITAIN_:
Thrice welcome art thou. For well I know that in thee still lives the
greatness that was Rome.
_ITALY_:
Yea, and dauntless as Romans of old come my sons to strike for liberty.
Now as then--
The horsemen and the footmen
Are pouring in amain
From many a stately market place,
From many a fruitful plain,
From many a lonely hamlet,
Which, hid by beech and pine,
Like an eagle’s nest, hangs on the crest
Of purple Apennine.
And the same spirit that urged the hero of old to face the foe, fires
the hearts and strengthens the hand of my younger sons, for--
“How can a man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his Gods?”