WARS and rumours of wars"—the clouds lower over the sea,
And a man must now be a man, if ever a man can be;
"Wars and rumours of wars"—a cry from the flaming East,
For the vultures are gathered together, and the lions roar over the
War! Shall we flinch! Shall we tremble! Shall we shrink like
cowards from the fray?
Better all Britons were dead than their glory passed away!
The clouds may be dark and lowering, the storm may be loud and
But the hearts of our men are true, and the arms of our men are
From the thousand years of glory, from the grave of heroes gone,
Comes a voice on the breath of the storm, and a power to spur us
A man must now be a man, and every man be true,
Fro the grave that covers our glory shall cover each Briton too.