Classic Poem

There is no escape by the river,
There is no flight left by the fen;
We are compassed about by the shiver
Of the night of their marching men
Give a cheer!
For our hearts shall not give way.
Here's to a dark to-morrow,
And here's to a brave to-day!

The tale of their hosts is countless,
And the tale of ours a score;
But the palm is naught to the dauntless,
And the cause is more and more.
Give a cheer!
We may die, but not give way.
Here's to a silent morrow
And here's to a stout to-day!