Hark! hark! a swelling chorus:
No, no, no, no;
We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us;
No, no, no, no;
And oh to save our country the White-Ribbon Army
Marches on, on, on round the world.
They have entered the gates of the Empire Celestial,
They have compassed the Isles of the Sea,
And they carry glad tidings of good to all people,
From the land of the brave and the free.
On the peeress of England, on Afric's dark daughter,
Is the white-ribbon emblem now twirled;
And the army moves onward, a dauntless procession,
Marching on, on, on round the world.
Chorus
Hark! hark! a ringing chorus:
No, no, no, no;
We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us;
No, no, no, no;
And lo! to save all nations the White-Ribbon Army
Marches on, on, on round the world.
[CHRISTMAS]
Dawn of glory! radiant morn!
To-day the Christ, our King, is born.
Our King, our Saviour, Son of Man,
And Son of God—all-wondrous plan!
A Virgin's joy; a world's salvation;
Humblest type of exaltation!
Highest form of life despised;
Visage marred, and beauty prized.
By angels heralded on high;
By men abhorred and doomed to die.
Entombed secure 'neath seal and stone;
Uprisen to the Eternal Throne!
Hail, blessed light! Hail glorious morn!
The Wonderful, the Christ is born!