Shall shout to the heavens their triumph afar—
And Victory shall perch on our banners on high
And Tyrants fore'er from our country shall fly;
Yet never shall we view that glorious sight—
We sink, with yon sun, in the deathgloom of night;
Farewell to our homes and our country for aye,
We go to our graves, with the setting of day.
Farewell, yes, farewell, Earth, Heavens and all
Which here in the last hour of life we recall:
Farewell! we are doomed to the night of the grave,—