When the heroic deeds that mark our time
Shall, in far days to come, recorded be,
Men, much forgetting, shall remember thee,
Thou central martyr of the Monster-Crime,
Who kept thy soul clear of the ooze and slime —
The quicksands of deceit and perjury —
A living thing, unconquered still and free,
Through superhuman sacrifice sublime.

O Serbia! amid thy ruins great,
Love is immortal; there's an end to hate,
Always there will be dawn, though dark the night.
Look up, thou tragic Glory! Even now,
The thorny round that binds thy bleeding brow
Is as a crown irradiating light!