Men of Harlech (Thomson)

For other versions of this work, see Men of Harlech.

Verse 1

Dauntless sons of Celtic sires
Whose souls the love of freedom fires,
Hark! ev'ry harp to war inspires
On Cader Idris side.
See the brave advancing,
See the brave advancing,
Each well-tried spear
Which Saxons fear,
In warlike splendour glancing.
Proud Harlech from her frowning tow'rs
Pours forth her never failing pow'rs.
Rouse, heroes, glory shall be ours,
March on, your country's pride!

Verse 2

Shall heart-rending sound of woe
Be heard where Conway's waters flow?
Or shall a rude and ruthless foe
Find here one willing slave?
From mountain and from valley,
From mountain and from valley,
From Snowdon, from
Plinlimmon's brow
Around your prince ye rally.
Let cowards kiss th'oppressor's scourge,
Home to his heart your weapons urge,
O'erwhelm him in th'avenging surge;
To victory, ye brave!