Forth to the battle!
Onward the fight,
as the eagle in his flight!
Let not the sunlight o'er our pathway close,
Till we o'erthrow our Saxon foes.
as yonder foaming tide,
Rushing down the mountainside;
Be ye ready, sword and spear,
Pour upon the spoiler near.
that float o'er us,
Bid the tyrant quail,
Ne'er shall his ruffian bands prevail!
Morning shall view us fetterless
Slaves ne'er shall Cymry's children be.
Heaven our arms with conquest bless,
All our bitter wrongs redress;
the harp! Awake the cry!
Valour's sons fear not to die.