THEIR arms shall conquer--to victory led
By a voice like a trumpet's peal;
For a great Ghost marches at their head--
The Soul of Rouget de Lisle.
He gave them the Song that cannot die
Till the world's heart cease to feel;
And they go into battle captain'd by
The Soul of Rouget de Lisle.
Not for the first time--not for the last--
Does an enemy waver and reel
Before the eternal clarion blast
From the Soul of Rouget de Lisle.
For this is the Song shall break the power
That bids men grovel and kneel--
The Song that was born of a mighty hour
In the Soul of Rouget de Lisle.
And its music fires the booming gun
And edges the gleaming steel,
For the Soul of France herself is one
With the Soul of Rouget de Lisle.