Our free flag is dancing <br />In the free mountain air, <br />And burnished arms are glancing, <br />And warriors gathering there; <br />And fearless is the little train <br />Whose gallant bosoms shield it; <br />The blood that warms their hearts shall stain <br />That banner, ere they yield it. <br />--Each dark eye is fixed on earth, <br />And brief each solemn greeting; <br />There is no look nor sound of mirth, <br />Where those stern men are meeting. <br /> <br />They go to the slaughter, <br />To strike the sudden blow, <br />And pour on earth, like water, <br />The best blood of the foe; <br />To rush on them from rock and height, <br />And clear the narrow valley, <br />Or fire their camp at dead of night, <br />And fly before they rally. <br />--Chains are round our country pressed, <br />And cowards have betrayed her, <br />And we must make her bleeding breast <br />The grave of the invader. <br /> <br />Not till from her fetters <br />We raise up Greece again, <br />And write, in bloody letters, <br />That tyranny is slain,-- <br />Oh, not till then the smile shall steal <br />Across those darkened faces, <br />Nor one of all those warriors feel <br />His children's dear embraces, <br />--Reap we not the ripened wheat, <br />Till yonder hosts are flying, <br />And all their bravest, at our feet, <br />Like autumn sheaves are lying.<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-greek-partisan/
