 | The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival |  |
[II. For faith and fame! be that the cry]
“Srbli wiczu: za wjeru risztiansku,
I za slawu imena Srpskoga!”—
N. S. P. “Cry the Servians: For the faith of Christians,
And the glory of the name of Servia!”
I za slawu imena Srpskoga!”—
N. S. P. “Cry the Servians: For the faith of Christians,
And the glory of the name of Servia!”
For faith and fame! be that the cry.
We have our pride, and we our fame;—
Heroes, of high and mighty name,
On thousand fields of battle lie.
We have our pride, and we our fame;—
Heroes, of high and mighty name,
On thousand fields of battle lie.
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Long centuries we in arms have stood;
Have kept our faith, when others fell:
The Turk might crush, he could not quell;—
Our covenant we have sealed in blood.
Have kept our faith, when others fell:
The Turk might crush, he could not quell;—
Our covenant we have sealed in blood.
Our land is free,—the cross alone
Shines o'er our vales, and crowns our hills:
The peasant reaps the soil he tills;
The Moslem vultures far have flown.
Shines o'er our vales, and crowns our hills:
The peasant reaps the soil he tills;
The Moslem vultures far have flown.
Again they come!—like clouds of night,
They hang along yon mountain's brow.
Rise, Servians! be heroes now;—
This be the last and fatal fight.
They hang along yon mountain's brow.
Rise, Servians! be heroes now;—
This be the last and fatal fight.
Hark to the charge! their Allahu,
It rings, not ours,—it rings their knell.
Rush to the shock, and, bursting through,
Leave not a Turk the tale to tell.
It rings, not ours,—it rings their knell.
Rush to the shock, and, bursting through,
Leave not a Turk the tale to tell.
| The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | |