BETA

II. GARIBALDI’S HYMN.

The tombs have been rent, and the dead have come
forth—
1
All our martyrs, in haste, from their rest have arisen ;2
Bright swords in their hands, laurel wreaths round
their brows,
3
The name of Italia upbreathing to Heaven.4
Forward, then ! youthful troops, give our flag to the
wind—
5
For one, and for all, let the same banner wave.6
Come ye all ! with the sword ; let each soul be on fire,7
The name of Italia from slavery to save.8
Go forth from the land, go forth, ’ tis the hour—9
Go forth from the land, ’ tis the hour, O stranger !10
Let the region of flowers, of sweet sounds and of song,11
Be again the arena of deeds in the field ;12
With a hundred vile chains they have shackled our
hands,
13
But they still know the sword of Legnano to wield.14
Our souls are not quelled by the Austrians’ rule ;15
Ne’er yet ’ neath the yoke grew the children of Rome ;16
Too long has Italia bowed low neath their sway—17
No longer the tyrant shall dwell in her home.18
Go forth from the land, go forth, ’ tis the hour—19
Go forth from the land, ’ tis the hour, O stranger !20
Let our homes be our own—on the Danube be thine.21
Thou hast ravaged our valleys, and plundered our bread ;22
Henceforth, for our children, their fair fruit shall spring ;23
On our soil, in its freedom, no tyrant shall tread.24
The two seas and the Alps are Italia’s bounds ;25
Let each landmark between into nothingness fall ;26
To a chariot of fire let the Apennines yield,27
And the standard of Liberty float over all.28
Go forth from the land, go forth, ’ tis the hour—29
Go forth from the land, ’ tis the hour, O stranger !30
Be silent each tongue ; be each arm raised to strike ;31
Every face to the enemy turned in its wrath ;32
If Italia have but one thought and one soul,33
Soon the stranger shall seek o’er the mountains a path.34
The land must be free from the spoilers’ rude grasp ;35
The spoils of the vanquished we care not to own.36
Italia’s sons have but one heart and one soul,37
And her hundred fair cities are one—one alone.38