Shoulder to shoulder, rank on rank, Devonia’s sons are found.
But Britain’s Empire grows apace; and whereso’er they be,
Britannia’s sons still wave aloft the banner of the free.
No narrow jealousies can stay—no obstacles affright:
Their motto is “Right forward, for Britain, Crown, and Right.”
And when the war-note soundeth, as late it sounded shrill,
How nobly rose her sons to arms, obedient to her will!
And as they came to Afric’s shores from many a distant clime,
So will they come for her loved sake, e’en to the end of time.
Nor race, nor people, clime nor zone her march can stay or bound;