Light within the Shade: Eight Hundred Years of Hungarian Poetry

Song of the Nation

sá n dor pe tőf i | 61 Song of the Nation Magyars, rise, the nation bids you, Now or never, when she needs you! Liberty or base subjection, Choose: that is the only question!— To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! Captive was our bleeding nation, Cursed that ancient generation, Who in freedom lived and perished Slave soil should not hold uncherished: To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! Vagabond and faithless scoffer, Who his death would fear to offer, Who his ragged life holds finer Than his homeland’s wounded honor: To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! Brighter far is sword than fetter, Fits a hero’s arm far better; Chains are all the grace we carry! Come to us, old sword of glory! To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! 62 | Light within the Shade Hungary, that name of beauty, Ancient word for fame and duty, We shall cleanse of her dishonor Smeared by centuries upon her: To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! Where our graves are gently mounded Grandchildren shall fall dumbfounded, Whisper in that hallowed air All our names in solemn prayer: To the God of Hungary Let us swear, Let us swear, we shall be captives Nevermore! 1848 ...