Look east to the crimson light,
Look west to retreating night,
Look down to the fallen dead,
Look south to the foe in red,
Look beyond to the raging sea,
Look ahead, and foresee.
Foresee, this morn, a day,
A day of dread,
A day of sword and arrowhead,
A day of falling foes,
A day of heavy blows,
A day, of victory.
When the day is done,
When the battle is won,
When our foes have fled,
And we’ve buried our dead,
When we are back, brave and bold,
Our stories, shall be told.
