"Morituri te salutant"
Say the soldiers as they pass;
Not in uttered words they say it,
But we feel it as they pass—
"We, about to perish, General,
We salute you as we pass!"
Gallant chiefs their swords presenting
Trail them proudly as they pass;
Battle banners, torn and glorious,
Dip salating as they pass;
Brazeu clangors shake the welkin
As the marching columns pass.
Nought of frippery, pomp or glitter,
Mark the veterans as they pass;
Travel-stained, but bronzed and sinewy,
Firmly, strongly on they pass;
And their words are "Morituri
Te salutant," as they pass!
On his pawing steed the General
Scans the waves of men that pass;
And his eyes at times are misty,
Then are blazing, as they pass;
And his cheeks are paling, flushing,
Freezing, burning, as they pass!
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Oh, our comrades, gone before us
In the last review to pass,
Never more to earthly chieftain
Dipping colors as ye pass—
Heaven accord you gentle judgment
When before its Throne you pass!
To the souls of all our perished,
We, who still in column pass,
Dip the flag, and trail the sabre,
As with wasted ranks we pass—
And we utter—"Morituri
Vos salutant," as we pass!