Rise, old moon, the Northern hordes call you,
Hen Ogledd battalion amass once more!
Rise, old moon the Northern hordes hail you,
for in joyous cadence, this blessed sight once hailed,
lay now, beneath the bracken and gorse,
naked to the wind of a dappled sky,
now our creed, a jaded scene, cowardice reigns!
Lest her archaic stock insist glory and awe.
Yet what bliss to writhe amongst the blue-grey worms,
a crimson streak through the pale damp earth.
'Come, brave countrymen, now is the time for Englishman's
courage and valour to shine. Come, take up arms, 'tis for glory we fight..
to punish our foes, and for our freedom to right'