Our days like our father’s we’ll end.
Ye are dead noble men! ye are gone
My brother—my fellow—my friend!——
On the death path where brave men must go;
But we live to revenge you! we haste
To die as our forefathers died.
The eagles scream on high;
They whet their forked beaks,
Raise, raise the battle cry,
‘Tis fame our leader seeks.