Band of Brothers

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,

And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day.

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day: then shall our names

Familiar in their mouths as household words,-

Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,-

Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered,-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.