Let him know the time has come;

Though his younger brothers’ lips are dumb

Their hands must soon be red.

Arise now patriot; sing Scott’s song!

Tell the mad unthinking throng

For strangers they have labored long

And now their souls are dead.

Arise now Bran and Charlemagne

And Roderick and Holger-Dane

And Vytautas of Lithuane

And Vlad and Finn McCool!

Arise Sebastian and Glyndwr!

Arise, Briton king of yore

Who lies at Glastonbury Tor

But still awaits his second rule.

Rise roaring from your hidden halls!

Rouse Franks and Saxons, Slavs and Gauls!

Rout Arab from your city walls

And set your lands aright!

Celt, your chariot adorn!

Teuton, blow the battle-horn!

Latin, breathe the hazy morn!

For God and country, fight!

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