As our fathers of old quickly ’rose for the fray—
Up, up, and reply to its chivalrous lay:
And although its shrill blast bears no tidings of war,
Nor the boom of the gun on the ocean afar
Tells of death and destruction, yet of you we have need
For the weal of our Country, our Throne, and our Creed.
Up, up, my brave comrades! with courage abounding,
Don your pouches and rifles—the bugle is sounding;
As our fathers of old quickly ’rose for the fray—
Up, up, and reply to its chivalrous lay.