A Call to Arms.
[Air — “The men of Harlech.”]
Rise, ye sons of Britain hoary,
Rise, to strike for Freedom’s glory,
Honor’s Union-Jack before ye,
Leave your vineyards, fields and cattle,
Heard ye not War’s brazen rattle ?
“Heroes, arm ! prepare for battle !”
Freedom loudly cries.
Honor proudly guide ye,
Mercy march beside ye,
Let Justice nerve, and Right ne’er swerve ;
Thus on to glory ride ye.
Let not Valor cowards call ye,
Let not Tyranny enthral ye,
Nor with Treachery forestall ye ;
Rise to face the foe.
Offspring of the British Lion,
Led by your old sea-king, Tryon,
O’er the waves your banners high on
Masts majestic raise.
Sweep the seas with regal power,
Make the tyrant despots cower,
Guard our noble Freedom’s tower,
Britain’s boast and praise.
Lo ! how brave our flag is !
Then waft thee cross Australis,
Undim’d and bright
Its starry light
On high ordained to trail is.
Rise, then, brave Australians, rise ye,
The older Britain well doth prize ye,
And, as her proud children, tries ye.
On to glory, go !
B. E. T. B.
The Australian Town and Country Journal (NSW), Saturday 13 June 1885, page 1226