 | Flotsam and Jetsam |  |
98
THE SERVIAN LEADER'S LAST ADDRESS.
I
Friends—comrades—freemen to the last!Our sun of life is setting fast;
One struggle more; the die is cast;
Behold your tyrants nigh!
II
Their power is crushing. Ruthless heavenInto their hands our race has given:
In stern despair we still have striven,
Spurning our destiny!
III
No choice is left us. Brutes may beContent to live in slavery;
The beasts with despots may agree;
Men cannot choose but die!
99
IV
No statesmen grope your Cause to find;That Cause is sun-clear to the blind;
They fight to rank with humankind
Who fight for liberty!
V
What battles you have fought with meYou know full well. Your fate you see.
With no vain talk of victory,
I lead you on to die!
VI
'Twere insult to you to rehearseYour wrongs. All bitter words were worse.
He who has coldness but to curse,
Our deathmate shall not be!
VII
No sighs—no weak regrets. AwayWith thoughts of wife or child to-day!
All—but some tyrant there to slay,
Then free in death to lie!
100
VIII
Die like your sires. Their loud blood criesTo God and Time. One patriot dies,
And from his dust a thousand rise;
Your sons' sons shall be free!
IX
Yes, we will die! But ere we goTo realms which no oppressors know,
Now for one deathstroke at the foe;
Revenge yourselves—and die!
| Flotsam and Jetsam | |