Menken, Adah Isaacs
I charge ye by the love ye bear your sleeping chieftain,
wake him not!
To-morrow he will wake, eager to wheel into battle
To-morrow he will rise, and mount the steed he loveth
well, and lead ye cheerily on the attack!
To-morrow his voice will ring its Hope along your
But oh! wait, wait!
He is weary, and must sleep!
Go, soldiers, go!