 | Lyrics: By Martin F. Tupper |  |
147
A Song for Rifle-Clubs.
Hurrah for the Rifle!—In days long ago
Our fathers were fear'd for the bill and the bow,
And Edwards and Harrys in battles of old
Were proud of their archers so burly and bold:
While Agincourt, Cressy, and Poictiers long since,
With great John of Gaunt, and the gallant Black Prince,
Tell out from old pages of history still
What Englishmen did with the bow and the bill.
Our fathers were fear'd for the bill and the bow,
And Edwards and Harrys in battles of old
Were proud of their archers so burly and bold:
While Agincourt, Cressy, and Poictiers long since,
With great John of Gaunt, and the gallant Black Prince,
Tell out from old pages of history still
What Englishmen did with the bow and the bill.
Hurrah for the Rifle!—When England requires,
She still shall be proud of the sons of our sires;
And rifle and bayonet then shall do more
Than ever did billhook or longbow of yore;
From hedgerow and coppice and cottage and farm
The foreigner's welcome, God wot! shall be warm,
And the crack of the rifle shall hint to the foe
How terrible once was the twang of the bow.
She still shall be proud of the sons of our sires;
And rifle and bayonet then shall do more
Than ever did billhook or longbow of yore;
From hedgerow and coppice and cottage and farm
The foreigner's welcome, God wot! shall be warm,
And the crack of the rifle shall hint to the foe
How terrible once was the twang of the bow.
| Lyrics: By Martin F. Tupper | |