WE heard thy name, O Mina!
Far through our hills it rang;
A sound more strong than tempests,
More keen than armour's clang.
The peasant left his vintage,
The shepherd grasped the spear --
We heard thy name, O Mina!
-- The mountain-bands are here.
As eagles to the dayspring,
As torrents to the sea,
From every dark sierra
So rushed our hearts to thee.
Thy spirit is our banner,
thine eye our beacon-sign,
Thy name our trumpet, Mina!
-- The mountain-bands are thine.
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