Of the bitter-sweet cordial he quaffed:

And stolen his anodyne draught.

 The cause that he taught me to cherish, The weapons he trained me to wield, He has given it over to perish And thrown down the sword and the shield. 

The weapons he trained me to wield,

And thrown down the sword and the shield.

 O how shall the coward persever When the hero slinks out of the fight; Or weakness keep up the endeavor Abandoned by desperate might? 

When the hero slinks out of the fight;

Abandoned by desperate might?

 The hour of stern trial has found me: The sentinel fires are burnt low, And I hear in the shadows around me The stealthy approach of the foe. 

The sentinel fires are burnt low,

The stealthy approach of the foe.

 Be it so then, my master, my leader: These helpless ones, dear to you, these Will I fend while I may, though I bleed, or Am beaten with blows to my knees. 

These helpless ones, dear to you, these

Am beaten with blows to my knees.

 Lo here, where your body lies fallen, I draw from its scabbard the sword And raise it—how feebly!—and call on Your spirit, my captain, my lord. 

I draw from its scabbard the sword

Your spirit, my captain, my lord.

 The watch-fire is sunken to embers, With signals the darkness is starred. Let them come! There is one who remembers— There is one who will stand upon guard. 

With signals the darkness is starred.

There is one who will stand upon guard.

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