Men of Harlech march to glory
Victory is hov’ring o’er ye
Bright-eyed freedom stands before ye
Hear ye not her call
At your sloth she seems to wonder
Rend the sluggish bonds asunder
Let the war-cry’s deafning thunder
Every foe appall
Echoes loudly waking
Hill and valley shaking
‘Till the sound spreads wide around
The Saxon’s courage breaking
Your foes on every side assailing
Forward press with heart unfailing
‘Till invaders learn with quailing
Cambria ne’er can yield