A thousand times I have confronted death
In my own cause, in warfare hardly glorious;
And should I now by cowardice and fear
Belie the stainless record of my life,
Now when a martyr's crown, the highest prize
To which I have aspired, is in my reach?
No, Colonel Bradburn! tell thy tyrant lord
That David Crockett always has abhorred
The name of bondage from his earliest breath
And is enjoyed to prove this by his death.
[From his couch.]
I cannot stand erect, as it were meet,
To hurl my bold defiance at thy feet;
Know then that only over Bowie's bier
Thy master e'er will hold his entry here.
Yea, we will save, our faithful swords in hand,
The cherished freedom of our native land,
Or gladly fall, with this our battle-cry:
"Free men we live, and free men we will die!"
Free men we live, and free men we will die!