The Rally Round The Flag

The rally round the mother-land Is spreading far and near, For to every loyal Englishman That mother-land is dear. Although the salt sea rolls between, All hearts may still be one In that vast empire which beholds The circuit of the sun. Where rich Canadian homesteads Stand 'neath the forest oak, Where on New Zealand's pine trees Is heard the woodman's stroke; And where Australia's goldfields Give forth their wealth untold, All are as truly English As e'er they were of old. True to our peerless England; True to our noble Queen - The ruler of the greatest race That ever yet has been; True to the stainless banner That floats o'er half the world, As when, in long-past ages, That flag was first unfurled. Though, from the sea-girt island, Where the empire had its birth, The English name has spread so far It circles all the earth, Yet 'tis a wider England To which this isle has grown; Tho' her sons be scattered far and wide, Their hearts are still her own.