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 Who with a patriot hope and proud elation,

Faced danger that the stoutest heart dismays;

And in the trench and on the mesa saw,

In memory, the men who fought with Shaw

For freedom, at the parting of the ways:

Thrice gallant souls! who in the van

Pressed forward, with one only plan—

One purpose, to prevail;

And 'neath the Mausers' burning hail

Sprang dauntless to the grave,

Your whiter comrades' threatened lives to save:

Who, stumbling, falling,—forward, onward still,—

Fought, step by step, up the dread hill,

Up to the crest where red the death-tide ran,—

Up to the high estate and dignities of Man!