Classic Poem

Arthur comes, to Britain dear:
Bid the brazen trumpets blow.
Led by him, we cannot fear
Civil rage or foreign foe.

Chorus of Bards and Knights .

Arthur hail! to Britain dear:
Loud ye brazen trumpets blow.
Led by Thee, we cannot fear
Civil rage, or foreign foe.

Arth. No thanks, my gallant comrades! 'Tis no time
For verbiage now. We'll write our courtesies
Deep on the foemen's backs. Gwrtheyrnion falls.
My sword is out. The word is — Guenever. Tal .

Let the streaming banner fly.
Wave your flaming falchions high.
Guenever, and Victory! Cho .

See the streaming banner fly.
See our falchions flaming high.
Guenever, and Victory

Lady. Go, friends of Virtue, Honour, Justice, Love!
Confirm your Glory, and your worth approve.
To higher powers I now resign my care,
Then seek my sparry Grot and coral Chair.
Thee — fire-eye'd Seraph! — thee,
That, on thy saphir throne,
Among The Sphere,
With ever-wakeful ministry,
Brac'd in adamantine zone,
Mak'st sea-girt Albion's cause thy own —
Thee, whom the Warrior Host reveres!
Thee, whom the bleeding Battle fears!
On thee I call.
As oft thy guardian care hath spread
The shield of safety o'er the Patriot's head,
Bidding the iron tempest vainly fall,
Propitious now on Arthur smile,
And guard the warrior boast of Britain's isle
From Foes uplifted mace, and Treason's secret thrall. Cho.
Thee! whom the warrior host reveres —
Thee! whom the bleeding Battle fears —
On thee we call! Tat .

Spread the fervour — spread the song,
Spread the martial flame along,
Rush to fight with loud acclaim;
Warm'd by that Seraphic Power
Who, high-enthron'd in empyrean bower,
Watchful for Albion, joys to wield
The sword of flame;
And the adamantine shield,
Amid'st the direful conflict, spreads
O'er the consecrated heads
Of chiefs devote to patriot fame. Chorus .
Spread the fervour — spread the song —
Spread the martial flame along.

Ar . Sound drums and trumpets. — Bid the martial fife
Pierce the charm'd ear of Valour. Sound the charge.
The cause is Freedom, Love, and Guenever! Chorus .

Wave the falchion — couch the spear —
Blow the brazen trumpet, blow. —
Arthur leads: we cannot fear
Civil rage, or foreign foe.