In our heart of hearts
Victory crown the just,
And that braggarts
Surely bite the dust,
Press we to the field ungrieving,
In our heart of hearts
Victory crowns the just.
Hence the faith and fire within us Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray,
Leaving all that herecan win us;
Hence the faith and fire within us Men who march away!
Is it a purblind prank,
O think you,
Friend with the musing eye Who watch us stepping by,
With doubt and dolorous sigh?
Can much pondering so hoodwink you?
Is it a purblind prank,
O think you,
Friend with the musing eye?
Nay.
We see well what we are doing,
Though some may not see — Dalliers as they be — England's need are we;
Her distress would leave us rueing:
Nay.
We well see what we are doing,
Though some may not see!
