Rise up! rise up, ye stalwart, to save a world from woe!
The Hun is growing boastful. We must give him blow for blow.
Where Goths and Vandals wake again
From sleep that's ages long
There's madness in the souls of men,
And murder in their song.
They are not men as men are known
To human hearts alone,
Their music is a woman's wail,
Or dying hero's groan.
They crave a world's dominion,
And they come, a wanton flood,
To drown the hope that God gives man
In seas of human blood.
Rise up! rise up, crusaders!
Send forth a clarion cry!
The race shall not be slaves to Huns
Though you and I must die.
A world at war?
A billion men who arm and fight and slay?
What are our blaring bugles for?
Is Man insane to-day?
Not we to whom the call has come,
Not we, the unafraid,
Now arming, God be with us, for the last, the great Crusade;
