DEATH hunts for us beneath the seas,
Death hawks at us amidst the air.
Awake, O slumberers lulled in ease !
Up and prepare!
Shall England bow her head at last,
The badge of vassalage to wear?
Awake--the hour for sleep is past;
Up and prepare!
Know you what fate on Belgium fell,
You that have wives and daughters fair ?
Shall they, too, feed the lusts of Hell ?
Up and prepare!
What sound is this that rises o'er
The squadron's tramp, the bugle's blare ?
'Tis Doom, knocking at England's door !
Up and prepare!
Arm as your sires were proud to arm,
Dare as your brothers yonder dare!
In mart and mine and forge and farm,
Up and prepare!