Gather ye, galloping cross-country riders,
Saddle your horses and arm for the right;
Show now the scoffers and fireside deriders
First across country is first in the fight.

Far from the voice of the pack, chiming cheery
Over the fields to the sound of the horn,
Onward by yeomen who faint not nor weary,
Now must the banners of England be borne.

Far o'er the seas where the bullets are flying,
Trumpets are shrilling their glorious song:
'Come ye, O come ye,' the bugles are crying,
'England has need of the gallant and strong.'

Come ye, O come ye from the low and the high lands,
Saddle your horses and arm for the fray:
Far comes the call to the men of the islands:
England has need of her children today.

Gather ye, strong-hearted gentlemen-riders,
Saddle your horses and arm for the right;
Show by your valour the scorners and chiders
Straight at the fences is straight to a fight.