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. 
 (Tennyson) 


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."