That bids surcease the despot sway of Wrong,
And Man prefer thy dignity to Life
Without thee,—War proclaiming “to the knife”
’Gainst Tyrants. May the strain I feebly raise,
Like the Caÿstrian bird’s with death-notes rife,
Tune every human organ to thy praise,
And curb War’s eagles, save to blast Oppression’s gaze!
VI.
On Mont’ Orgullo Mota’s fortress-crown