Clear sounds the call on high:
"To arms and victory!"
Brave hearts that win or die,
Dying, may win;
Proudly the banners wave,
What though the goal's the grave?
Death cannot harm the brave, -
Through death they win.

Softly the evening hush
Stilling strife's maddened rush
Cools the fierce battle flush, -
See the day die;
A thousand faces white
Mirror the cold moonlight
And glassy eyes are bright
With Victory.