Then cheer, boys, cheer for England, mother England,
Cheer, boys, cheer for the willing strong right hand,
Cheer boys, cheer, there’s wealth for honest labor,
Cheer, boys, cheer for the new and happy land.
Cheer, boys, cheer, the steady breeze is blowing,
To float us freely o’er the ocean’s breast,
And the world shall follow in the track we’re going;
The star of empire glitters in the West,
We’ve had a toil, and little to reward it,
But there shall plenty smile upon our pain,
And ours shall be the prairie and the forest,
And boundless meadows ripe with golden grain.