A land without ruins is a land without memories - a land without memories is a land without history.
Do we weep for the heroes who died for us, Who living were true and tried for us, And dying sleep side by side for us; The martyr band That hallowed our land With the blood they shed in a tide for us?
Some reckon their age by years, Some measure their life by art; But some tell their days by the flow of their tears And their lives by the moans of their hearts.
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