“Up from this wasted soil, this shattered shell,

Whose walls and towers here in ruin lie,

Three thousand soldier souls took wing on high,

In the bright mansions of the blest to dwell.

The onslaught of the foeman to repel

By might of arm all vainly did they try,

And when at length ’twas left them but to die,

Wearied and few the last defenders fell.