4.
Macedonia sends forth her invincible race;
For a time they abandon the cave and the chase:
But those scarfs of blood-red shall be redder, before
The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er.
5.
Then the Pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves,
And teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves,
Shall leave on the beach the long galley and oar,
And track to his covert the captive on shore.
6.
I ask not the pleasures that riches supply,
My sabre shall win what the feeble must buy;
Shall win the young bride with her long flowing hair,[1]
And many a maid from her mother shall tear.
7.
I love the fair face of the maid in her youth,[2]
Her caresses shall lull me, her music shall soothe;[3]
Let her bring from the chamber her many-toned lyre,
And sing us a song on the fall of her Sire.
