From Clee to heaven the beacon burns,
Look left, look right, the hills
are bright,
Now, when the flame they watch
not towers
To skies that knit their
heartstrings right,
It dawns in Asia, tombstones show
We pledge in peace by farm and town
'God save the Queen' we
living sing,
Oh, God will save her, fear you not:
The shires have seen it plain,
From north and south the sign returns
And beacons burn again.
The dales are light between,
Because 'tis fifty years to-night
That God has saved the Queen.
Above the soil they trod,
Lads, we'll remember friends
of ours
Who shared the work with God.
To fields that bred them brave,
The saviors come not home to-night:
Themselves they could not save.
And Shropshire names are read;
And the Nile spills his overflow
Beside the Severn's dead.
The Queen they served in war,
And fire the beacons up and down
The land they perished for.
From hieght to height 'tis heard;
And with the rest your voices ring,
Lads of the Fifty-third.
Be you the men you've been,
Get you the sons your fathers got,
And God will save the Queen.
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Page last updated: 11 November 1998 ©1998-1999, Richard J. Yanco |