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THE CRUSADER'S WAR-SONG.
CHIEFTAINS, lead on! our hearts beat high,
Lead on to Salem's towers!
Who would not deem it bliss to die,
Slain in a cause like ours?
The brave, who sleep in soil of thine,
Lie not entombed, but shrined, O Palestine!
Souls of the slain in holy war!
Look from your sainted rest!
Tell us ye rose in Glory's car,
To mingle with the blest;
Tell us how short the death-pang's power,
How bright the joys of your immortal bower!
Strike the loud harp, ye minstrel train!
Pour forth your loftiest lays;
Each heart shall echo to the strain
Breathed in the warrior's praise.
Bid every string triumphant swell
Th' inspiring sounds that heroes love so well.
