Let the trump of Fame
Be blown in praise of all,
Who, in Virtue's name,
Fight or bravely fall!
On the heroes move,
Though hosts their march impede;
For the land they love
They plead, they plead.
Who hath ears to hear
Let him hear their plea,
And with holy fear
From the Tempter flee;
Till brew-house, vat, and still
Are swept from all our shore,
And hill shall shout to hill,
'Their slavery is no more!'
Cheer the patriot band,
Who, for their country, draw
The sword of God's right hand,
The sword of Right and Law!
They in His strength are strong,
Who dare encounter loss,
While bearing thus along
The cross, the cross.
Grasp, every man, his shield,-
The shield of faith,-and come
On to the battle-field,
Against the powers of Rum.
Those powers are shaken, even now!
Of Heaven they're not the powers!
Then on, with dauntless brow!
The Victory is ours!