Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Song To The Suliotes
1.
Up to battle! Sons of Suli
Up, and do your duty duly!
There the wall—and there the Moat is:
Bouwah! Bouwah! Suliotes!
There is booty—there is Beauty,
Up my boys and do your duty.
2.
By the sally and the rally
Which defied the arms of Ali;
By your own dear native Highlands,
By your children in the islands,
Up and charge, my Stratiotes,
Bouwah!—Bouwah!—Suliotes!
3.
As our ploughshare is the Sabre:
Here's the harvest of our labour;
For behind those battered breaches
Are our foes with all their riches:
There is Glory—there is plunder—
Then away despite of thunder!