Ah! grasp the dire dagger and couch the fell spear, <br />If vengeance and death to thy bosom be dear, <br />The dastard shall perish, death’s torment shall prove, <br />For fate and revenge are decreed from above. <br /> <br />Ah! where is the hero, whose nerves strung by youth, <br />Will defend the firm cause of justice and truth; <br />With insatiate desire whose bosom shall swell, <br />To give up the oppressor to judgement and Hell-- <br /> <br />For him shall the fair one twine chaplets of bays, <br />To him shall each warrior give merited praise, <br />And triumphant returned from the clangour of arms, <br />He shall find his reward in his loved maiden's charms. <br /> <br />In ecstatic confusion the warrior shall sip, <br />The kisses that glow on his love's dewy lip, <br />And mutual, eternal, embraces shall prove, <br />The rewards of the brave are the transports of love. <br /> <br />OCTOBER, 1809.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-translated-from-the-german/
