The fair Knights of old, with trappings of gold,
And falchions that gleamed by their side,
Went forth to the fight with hearts gay and light
To war 'gainst Oppression and Pride:
And though long since dead, it must not be said
That the proud reign of Chivalry 's o'er--
There are many as bold as the brave Knights of old
To be found in the Rifle Corps.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for the Rifle Corps;
May they ever be ready to stand
In defence of the Right, and be willing to fight
For the Queen and their native land.
Old England intends with the world to be friends,
While Honour with Peace is combined;
But the moment her foe lifts his hand for a blow,
All friendship she flings to the wind.
Should an enemy dare e'en as much as prepare
To bring War's alarms to our shore,
He will find every coast bristling o'er with a host
Of the brave-hearted Rifle Corps.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for the Rifle Corps;
May they ever be ready to stand
In defence of the Right, and be willing to fight
For the Queen and their native land.
Let the wine goblet brim with red wine to the rim--
Let Beauty look on all the while,
As with eyes that approve in the language of love
She crowns the proud toast with a smile:
May each Rifle be seen round the Throne and the Queen
Should danger e'er threaten our shore:
And with many a shout let the echo ring out--
Three cheers for the Rifle Corps!
Hurrah! Hurrah! for the Rifle Corps;
May they ever be ready to stand
In defence of the Right, and be willing to fight
For the Queen and their native land.