For Fate Has Wove The Thread Of

It Is Wrong To Be Sorry Without Ceasing.

O Friends, Be Men; So Act That None May Feel Ashamed To Meet The Eyes Of Other Men. Think Each One Of This Children And His Wife, His Home, His Parents, Living Yet And Dead. For Them, The Absent Ones, I Supplicate, And Bid You Rally Here, And Scorn To Fly.

Goddess Of Song, Teach Me The Story Of A Hero.

I Have No Interest At All In Food And Drink, But Only In Slaughter And Blood And The Agonized Groans Of Mangled Men

Come, Weave Us A Scheme So I Can Pay Them Back! Stand Beside Me, Athena, Fire Me With Daring, Fierce As The Day We Ripped Troy's Glittering Crown Of Towers Down. Stand By Me - Furious Now As Then, My Bright-eyed One - And I Would Fight Three Hundred Men, Great Goddess, With You To Brace Me, Comrade-in-arms In Battle!