—Now wave, ye glorious banners! wave!
Through the lattice a wind sweeps by,
And the arms, o’er the deathbed of the brave,
Send forth a hollow sigh.
Now wave, ye banners of many a fight!
As the fresh wind o’er you sweeps;
The wind and the banners fall hush’d as night;
The Campeador—he sleeps!
Sound the battle-horn on the breeze of morn,
And swell out the trumpet’s blast,