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George Gordon Byron - Thy Day`s are Done
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Thy days are done, thy fame begun; 
Thy country`s strains record 
The triumphs of her chosen Son, 
The slaughter of his sword! 
The deeds he did, the fields he won, 
The freedom he restored! 

Though thou art fall`n, while we are free 
Thou shalt not taste of death! 
The generous blood that flow`d from thee 
Disdain`d to sink beneath: 
Within our veins its currents be, 
Thy spirit on our breath! 

Thy name, our charging hosts along, 
Shall be the battle-word! 
Thy fall, the theme of choral song 
From virgin voices pour`d! 
To weep would do thy glory wrong: 
Thou shalt not be deplored.
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