Where heroes face the foe,
One man against a score, with blood-choked breath
Shouting the watchword, "Victory or Death--"
Out of the dreadful cloud that settles low
On Goliad's plain,
Where thrice a hundred prisoners lie slain
Beneath the broken word of Mexico--
Out of the fog of factions and of feuds
That ever drifts and broods
Above the bloody path of border war,
Leaps the Lone Star!

What light is this that does not dread the dark?
What star is this that fights a stormy way
To San Jacinto's field of victory?
It is the fiery spark
That burns within the breast
Of Anglo-Saxon men, who can not rest
Under a tyrant's sway;
The upward-leading ray
That guides the brave who give their lives away
Rather than not be free!
O question not, but honour every name,
Travis and Crockett, Bowie, Bonham, Ward,
Fannin and King, and all who drew the sword
And dared to die for Texan liberty!
Yea, write them all upon the roll of fame,
But no less love and equal honour give
To those who paid the longer sacrifice--
Austin and Houston, Burnet, Rusk, Lamar