Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.
In listening mood she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand.
Faces that have charmed us the most escape us the soonest.
Fight on, brave knights! Man dies, but glory lives! Fight on; death is better than defeat! Fight on brave knights! for bright eyes behold your deeds!
Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.