Now is thrown the noble die.
Brothers, the hour with warning is rife;
Faithful in death as you're faithful in life,
Be firm, and be bound by the holiest tie,
In the shadows of the night,
Lie behind us shame and scorn;
Lies the slave's exulting might,
Who the German oak has torn.
Speech disgrac'd in future story,
Shrines polluted (shall it be?)