The river roars from the mountains, and his foemen reel at its shock.
These are our mighty fellows, we are akin to these,
The men who burn on the deserts, who drown in the pathless seas,
Not for gold or for power or gems some king has thieved,
But simply to follow a vision, to see a dream achieved!
So, though we stand beleaguered, though the foe comes on like the sea,
Though slaves fall down as he passes, and helot bend at his knee,
Though there is no escaping, though the last hope is gone,
Here in the sight of all men we buckle our armor on!
Whatever chances, Tullia is safe;