Men of Harlech (Charles Szabo)

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Men of Harlech In the Hollow
Do ye hear like rushing billow
Wave on wave that surging follow
Battle's distant sound?

Tis the tramp of Saxon foemen
Saxon spearmen, Saxon bowmen
Be they knights or hinds or yeomen
They shall bite the ground

Loose the folds asunder
Flag we conquer under
Placid skies that hear our cries
Shall launch their bolts of thunder

Onward! 'tis our country needs us
He is bravest, he who leads us
Honor's self now proudly heads us
Freedom, God and right

Rocky steeps and passes narrow
Flash with spear and flight of arrow
Who would think of death or sorrow?
Death is glory now

Hurl the reeling horsemen over
Let the earth dead foemen cover
Fate of friend, of wife, of lover
Trembles on a blow

Strands of life are riven
Blow for blow is given
Deadly locks, or battle shocks
And mercy shrieks to heaven

Men of Harlech young or hoary
See your banner famed in story
Strike for home, for life, for glory
Never will we yield

Men of Harlech, honor calls us
No proud Saxon e'er appalls us
On we march, what e'er befalls us
Never shall we fly

Tho' our mothers may be weeping
Tho' our sisters may be keeping
Watch for some who now are sleeping
On the battlefield

Forward lightly bounding
Hear the trumpet sounding
Forward ever, backward never
This proud foe astounding

Fight for father, sister, mother
Each is bound to each as brother
With this faith in one another
We will win or die

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