_Song of the
Soldiers
within_.
Byron
They are wiser now, and will not separate
For nonsense. Nay, it is their brotherhood,
Their Shibboleth--their Koran--Talmud--their
Cabala--their best brick-work, wherewithal
They build more----
_Arn. _ (_interrupting him_). Oh, thou everlasting sneerer!
Be silent! How the soldier's rough strain seems
Softened by distance to a hymn-like cadence!
Listen!
_Caes. _ Yes. I have heard the angels sing. 120
_Arn. _ And demons howl.
_Caes. _ And man, too. Let us listen:
I love all music.
_Song of the Soldiers within_.
The black bands came over
The Alps and their snow;
With Bourbon, the rover,
They passed the broad Po.
We have beaten all foemen,
We have captured a King[234],
We have turned back on no men,
And so let us sing! 130
Here's the Bourbon for ever!
Though penniless all,
We'll have one more endeavour
At yonder old wall.
With the Bourbon we'll gather
At day-dawn before
The gates, and together
Or break or climb o'er
The wall: on the ladder,
As mounts each firm foot[dh], 140
Our shout shall grow gladder,
And Death only be mute[235].
With the Bourbon we'll mount o'er
The walls of old Rome,
And who then shall count o'er[di]
The spoils of each dome?
Up! up with the Lily!
And down with the Keys!
In old Rome, the seven-hilly,
We'll revel at ease. 150
Her streets shall be gory,
Her Tiber all red,
And her temples so hoary
Shall clang with our tread.
Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon[236]!
The Bourbon for aye!
Of our song bear the burden!