He began to sing the old war-song, softly at first, louder as Sam joined him—
Comrades, hear the battle tiding,
hear the ships that rise and yell
faring outward, starward riding—
Kick the Terrans back to hell!
The others were listening, men raised weary heads, an old light burned in their eyes and tankards clashed together. They stood up to roar out the chorus till the walls shook.
Lift your glasses high,
kiss the girls good-bye,
for we're riding,