New Russia, rise and proudly stand Where men and heroes are; Go forth with Freedom, hand in hand, Thine eyes upon a star! Create a land where men are peers, Where laws, not monarchs, reign, And take thine heritage of years Made sacred by thy pain! _ALL_: May Russia’s sons be free! _FRANCE_: And Poland’s, too. Brave men whose hearts have ever yearned for Freedom’s crown! NO. 12. _CHORUS_: POLAND FAIR: Poland Fair, thou bright and lovely land, Ne’er to be forsaken; Loyal sons obey thy proud command: Ev’ry soul awaken! Sacred land, we love thee well, Our hearts unite beneath thy spell; Take, O Country, all thy sons can give, Poland fair, thy name shall live! (_A trumpet call sounds._) _FRANCE_: Hark! Another friend approaches from the fair South! NO. 13. _CHORUS_: GARIBALDI’S HYMN: All forward to battle! the trumpets are crying, All forward! all forward! our old flag is flying. When liberty calls us, we linger no longer. Ye tyrants, come on! Tho’ a thousand to one! Hurrah for the banner, the flag of the free! (_Enter_ ITALY, _dressed in National costume_.) _FRANCE_: Now, welcome, Sister Italy. I have looked for thy coming. _BELGIUM_: Twice welcome art thou, for I, too, hoped for your aid. _BRITAIN_: Thrice welcome art thou. For well I know that in thee still lives the greatness that was Rome. _ITALY_: Yea, and dauntless as Romans of old come my sons to strike for liberty. Now as then-- The horsemen and the footmen Are pouring in amain From many a stately market place, From many a fruitful plain, From many a lonely hamlet, Which, hid by beech and pine, Like an eagle’s nest, hangs on the crest Of purple Apennine. And the same spirit that urged the hero of old to face the foe, fires the hearts and strengthens the hand of my younger sons, for-- “How can a man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods?” NO. 14. _CHORUS_: “SOUND! TRUMPET!” Hark! from the vine-cover’d valley, Up to the mountains above, Loud rings the signal to rally Under the banner we love. Aloft bright pennons are glancing, And ev’ry heart beats high; Proudly the hosts are advancing To fight and if need be, to die! _Chorus._ Sound! trumpet, sound! let the battle-cry Re-echo from mountain to strand! Sound ye the strain that shall lead us on To strike for Italia, our land! God of the fathers who perish’d Seeking the birthright we claim, Thine is the flow’r we have cherished, Ne’er let it wither in shame! The fires of Freedom are lighted, With deathless flame they glow; Forward! in faith all united, To strike and to vanquish the foe! _BELGIUM_: O Italy, thy proud spirit shall again triumph! (_Music--Japanese National Song--is heard off stage._) NO. 15. _CHORUS_: JAPANESE NATIONAL SONG: