Lacedaemonians Son

The spartan creed

When the trumpet breaks the silence
 And the hearth-smoke lifts no more,
When the sons are called to silence
 By the beat of iron war
There are names not carved on marbles,
 There are oaths not writ in books,
But the Spartans march by silence,
 And the gods weigh not their looks.

They were bred to speak in sparing,
 They were sworn to walk the line,
With a hand upon the spearshaft
 And an eye toward the sign.
Not for praise nor plunder marching
 Nor for gold nor garland fair
But because the Law had called them,
 And they knew their place was there.

When the mother gives her blessing
 With a grave and narrow smile,
It is not for lack of loving
 It is law that makes her mild.
"Come you back with shield, my darling,
 Or be carried on its plane;
But no son of mine shall tremble
 And no Spartan die in vain."

They have slept in bitter weather,
 They have bathed in blood and snow,
They have stood the pass at midnight
 When the coward dared not go.
For the King is but their servant,
 And the sword their only creed
They were men of Lakedaimon
 And they did the Spartan deed.

Though the earth forget their footfall,
 Though the world shall change its frame,
Still the Law goes marching onward,
 And the sons must play the game.
And the Law shall not be broken
 While the stones of Taygetus stand
For a Spartan keeps his promise,
 Though he die in foreign land.

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