I TALK not of our fathers' fears! England alters with the years— We must now adapt our creed To this older England's need. @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, in the blue of her seas, Break out the Jack! let it boom to the buffeting breeze!@1 II All the battles of the past Are as nothing to this last. The arbitrament of Sense —Not of swords—our sure defence! @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, &c@1. III Voices from across the foam Chant the Commonwealth to come. Strikes afar the appointed hour, Love shall conquer, hate devour @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, &c@1. IV 'Neath the burning Afric sun Did our kinsmen Duty shun? Were we left to fight alone Thro' the battle's fiercest zone? @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, &c@1. V Fashion'd upon fields of blood, Soldiers of one King we stood. With a clearer purpose now To the mart, and to the plough! @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, &c@1. VI Where the Flag of Britain waves Over widely-scatter'd graves, Spring the flowers, all flowers above— Truth and Justice, Peace and Love. @3Bath'd in the blood of her sons, in the blue of her seas, Break out the Jack! let it boom to the buffeting breeze!@1 |