Men of Harlech

Lyrics to song "Men of Harlech" Men of Harlech, stop your dreaming Can't you see their spearpoints gleaming See their warrior pennants streaming To this battle field Men of Harlech stand ye steady It can not be ever said ye For the battle were not ready Welshmen never yield From the hills rebounding Let this war cry sounding Summon all at Cambria's call The mighty foe surrounding Men of Harlech on to glory This will every be your story Keep these burning words before ye Welshmen will not yield Another version, from The Fireside Book of Favorite American Folk Songs I found the reference at: Comptemplator.com Hark, I hear the foe advancing Barbed steeds are proudly prancing Helmets in the sunbeams glancing Glitter through the trees. Men of Harlech, lie ye dreaming See ye not their falchions gleaming While their pennons gaily streaming Flutter in the breeze. From the rocks resounding Let the war cry sounding Summon all at Cambreais call The haughty foe surrounding Men of Harlech, on to glory See your banner famed in story Waves these burning words before ye, "Britain scorns to yield!" Mid the fray see dead and dying Friend and foe together lying All around the arrows flying Scatter sudden death. Frightened steeds are wildly neighing Brazen trumpets loudly braying Wounded men for mercy praying With their parting breath. See they're in disorder, Comrades, keep close order Ever they shall rue the day, They ventured o'er the border. Now the Saxon flees before us, Victr'ry's banner floateth oe'er us, Raise the loud exulting chorus, "Britain wins the field!"