Turn for no luring, hold on, enduring,
Gold though the apples may lie in your way
Sabres are clashing, arrows are flashing:
These will not hinder the hero, nor stay.

Boldly begun, and the half is done!
Alexander the Great won a world of old.
No pause for debating! The queens are waiting,
They kneel in the tent to the victor bold.

We do and we dare! We mount, as the heir,
To the bed of Darius, and sit on his throne.
How sweet is the doom! To die thus in bloom!
A triumph-drunk death in Babylon!