Afar they fell. It was the zone Of fig and orange, cane and lime (A land how all unlike their own, With the cold pine-grove overgrown), But still their Country's clime. And there in youth they died for her -- The Volunteers, For her went up their dying prayers: So vast the Nation, yet so strong the tie. What doubt shall come, then, to deter The Republic's earnest faith and courage high. |