Mithras

Mithras, God of the morning, our trumpets waken the wall!
'Rome is above nations, but thou art over all'.

Mithras, God of the morning, our trumpets waken the wall!
'Rome is above nations, but thou art over all'
Now as the names are answered, and the guards are marched away
Mithras, also a soldier, give us strenght for the day!

Mithras, God of the sunset, low on the western main
Thou descending immortal, immortal to rise again!
Now when the watch is ended, now when the wine is drawn
Mithras also a soldier, keep us pure till the dawn!

Many roads thou has fashioned: all of them lead to the light
Mithras, the soul of a soldier, teach us to die aright.

Mithras! Mithras!

Mithras, god of midnight, here were the great bull dies
Look on thy childern in darkness, oh take our sacrifice!

Mithras, God of the noontide, the heather swims in the heat
Our helmets scorch our foreheads; our sandals burn our feet
Now in the ungrit hour; now ere we blink and drowse
Mithras also a soldier, keep us true to our vows!

Mithras, God of midnight, here where the great bull dies
Look on thy childern in darkness, oh take our sacrifice!

Many roads thou has fashioned: all of them lead to the light
Mithras, also a soldier, teach us to die aright.

Mithras! Mithras! Mithras! Mithras!