Our ancient enemy. Let us give o’er!
We do but fight with fate! Lay down your arms!
Retreat! Surrender! Better live as slaves
Than fight forever on a losing field!
Hold, ye faint-hearted! Ye are not alone!
Into your worn-out ranks of weary men
Come mighty reinforcements, even now!
Look where the dawn is kindling in the east,
Brave with the glory of the better day,—
A countless host, an endless host, all fresh,