(Tennyson) Time And Its Ally, Dark Disarmament, Have Compassed Me About, Have Massed Their Armies, And On Battle Bent My Forces Put To Rout; But Though I Fight Alone, And Fall, And Die, Talk Terms Of Peace? Not I. They War Upon My Fortress, And Their Guns Are Shattering Its Walls; My Army Plays The Cowards' Part, And Runs, Pierced By A Thousand Balls; They Call For My Surrender. I Reply, "Give Quarter Now? Not I." They've Shot My Flag To Ribbons, But In Rents It Floats Above The Height; Their Ensign Shall Not Crown My Battlements While I Can Stand And Fight. I Fling Defiance At Them As I Cry, "Capitulate? Not I."