France tells the story, make our hearts know well, Christ His Figure stands against the gates of hell: Flame and shot may rive the fortress walls apart, Christ the Crucified will heal the breaking heart. ...
Ye who heed a nation's call And speed to arms therefor, Ye who fear your children's march To perils of the war,-- Soldiers of the deck and camp And mothers of our men, Hearken to a tale of France...
O ye who sail Potomac's even tide To Vernon's shades, our Chieftain's hallowed mound; Or who at distant shrines high paeans sound In Alfred's cult, old England's morning pride;...
The little green soldiers are here at last, With their waving blades and spears; And across the hills they are marching fast With the drill of a thousand years: And I wave afar, and I shout, Hurrah!...
Along the north a mountain crest, A row of trees runs towards the west; The south is all a field for play, For work the east has marked a way; The night shows all the stars above,...
You never know when war may come, And that is why I keep a drum: For if all sudden in the night From east or west came battle fright, And you were sound asleep in bed, And very soon to join the dead,...
Where is the war ye march unto, From the early tents of morn? And what are the deeds ye hope to do, Brave Grenadiers of Corn? Pearls of the dew are on your hair,...