Tomorrow Let Us Do Or Die!

Beauty's Witching Sway Is Now To Me A Star That's Fallen-a Dream That's Passed Away.

On The Green Banks Of Shannon, When Sheelah Was Nigh, No Blithe Irish Lad Was So Happy As I, No Harp Like My Own Could So Cheerily Play, And Wherever I Went Was My Poor Dog Tray.

Ye Mariners Of England! That Guard Our Native Seas; Whose Flag Has Braved A Thousand Years, The Battle And The Breeze!

One Moment May With Bliss Repay Unnumbered Hours Of Pain.

What Millions Died That Caesar Might Be Great!