sits in calmness and light, is positive and composed, knows no discouragement.

Waits patiently its time — a year — a century — a hundred centuries.

4. The battle rages with many a loud alarm and fre- quent advance and retreat,

The infidel triumphs — or supposes he triumphs.

The prison, scaffold, garrote, hand-cuffs, iron necklace and anklet, lead-balls, do their work,

The named and unnamed heroes pass to other spheres.

The great speakers and writers are exiled — they lie sick in distant lands.

The cause is asleep — the strongest throats are still, choked with their own blood.

The young men drop their eyelashes toward the ground when they meet,

But for all this, liberty has not gone out of the place, nor the infidel entered into possession.

5. When liberty goes out of a place, it is not the first to go, nor the second or third to go.

It waits for all the rest to go — it is the last.

6. When there are no more memories of the superb lovers of the nations of the world,

The superb lovers' names scouted in the public gatherings by the lips of the orators.

Boys not christened after them, but christened after traitors and murderers instead,