O youth, if thou but have the heart
Thy father's path to try,
Go forth to play a hero's part,
And save thy land or die!

The fountain's voice is not so rare
Beside a flowery strand,
The light of day is not so fair
As death for native land.

Through every age the wings of fame
Thy glory shall upraise,
And in eternity thy name
Shall ring in songs of praise.

That name shall win a star also,
A maiden young and free
Shall to thy tomb with roses go,
Thy priestess there to be.