England shall hear that we failed not to find them and fight them and stand.
Stand for the Queen! Ay, God save her! and save us, for sure there's no other;
Trapped, with no chance for our lives, let the black devils see we can die.
Scrawl them a line or a letter—sweetheart, wife, sister or mother—
Quick, for their bullets fly faster; a handclasp—"old fellow—goodbye!"
Round up the horses and shoot them—close up the dead comrade's places—
Pray if you can, but shoot steady—the last cartridge gone!—all is still,
Save for the yells of the victors, that hush as they see the white faces
Kindle when comes the last order: "Men! hats off, God save!"—Ay, He will.