Brit - ons, strike home, Re - venge, re - venge your
coun - - - try’s wrongs. Fight, fight and re -
- cord, fight, fight and re - cord your —
selves in Dru - - ids’ songs, Fight,
fight and re - - cord, fight, fight and re -
- cord, re - cord your - selves in Dru - ids’ songs.
But these simple words would hardly suit the times, so a brand new patriotic song was evolved, embodying the title
BRITONS, STRIKE HOME!
A New Song.
Should Frenchmen e’er pollute Britannia’s strand,
Or press with hostile hoof this sacred land;
The daring deed should every Briton arm,
To save his native land from dire alarm;
Her free born Sons should instant take the field,
The Altar and the Throne at once to shield.
Britons, strike home! avenge your Country’s cause,
Protect your King, your Liberties, and Laws!
Repel the Foe, that, desperate, dares invade
The land protected by great Sydney’s shade;
And in the cause for which your Hampden bled,
Should ev’ry Briton’s blood be freely shed;
A cause no less than Liberty and Life,
The poor Man’s Home, his Children and his Wife.
Britons, strike home! &c.
The base Usurper comes—his troops advance,
And line, with threat’ning front, the shores of France;
Already has the Despot given the word;
Already has he drawn his blood stain’d sword;
While Jaffa’s plains attest th’ Assassin’s skill,
Poison and blood—the dagger and the pill.
Britons, strike home! &c.
No common war we wage, our native land
Is menac’d by a murderous, ruthless band;
The Throne and Altar by their Chief o’erturn’d,
And at his feet one half the prostrate world!
‘Plunder and Rape and Death’’s the hostile cry,
‘Fire to your towns—to Britons slavery!’
Britons, strike home! &c.
Come, Bonaparte, come! we are prepar’d;
No British heart a foreign foe e’er fear’d.
What! tho’ an abject world in arms should rise,
In England’s cause, a Briton death defies;
If to herself she prove but firm and true,
Gaul, and her frantic Chief, she’ll make to rue.
Britons, strike home! &c.