Ad Victorium/Luctor et Emergo/Mars Deploro

a harrowing battle.

Hark! Hear the cries!

The brazen trumpet lies

In the hands of poor dead Herald.

His lips are turning blue

As the battle rages on.

The shining horn is shattered

By careless hooves of friendly.

No more to lead the battles,

No more to send to war.

 

Hark! Hear the silence!

No more the foes do fight.

The dead are lying scattered on the field heroic.

Their boots stuck in the mud,

As someone cries for aid.

Poor soldier boy, in tatters

He has earned his glory here.

No more to go to battle,

Aged by the sound of war.