Slept the ranks of the resolute Saxon,
The files of our conquering foes.
On the edge of the hills, in our eyry,
Like statues, we silently stood —
Our cavalry guarding the mountain,
Our infantry watching the wood.
We gazed on our beautiful city,
We thought of the stain on our name.
And we swore that the sun of our country
Should never descend on our shame!