Garibaldi! Garibaldi!
Bleeds and burns my heart for thee!
Freedom! union for Italia!
Never can be won by thee.
Dipp'd in freedom's sacred fountain,
Waved on high his conquering brand;
Onward now, we strike for Venice!
Follow me each patriot band.
Kingcraft, Statecraft-Garibaldi!
Diplomacy, deep and dark,
Rules the hour; 'twere better never
To have left thy island ark.
Ah! thou high heroic spirit!
Soul of honour, heart of truth!
Wounded eagle of the Tyrol!
Take these tears of love and truth.
'What dost thou hear?' O! Garibaldi,
Place and service are not thine-
Thine to serve the King Eternal
In a warfare more divine.
Thine to bear high Heaven's commission,
Thine to wield the Spirit's sword;
Soldier of the Cross, a victor
In the battles of the Lord.
Not with shouting of the warrior,
Not with garments rolled in blood,
Canst thou conquer for Italia's
Truest, highest, lasting good!