Fill the Ranks

Fill the ranks, you people bold;

Your forbears dear are growing old,

And pass they now from marching file

As Time spins e’er his ceaseless dial.

Fill the ranks, and let them not

Grow sparse and empty, plagued by rot

Of witless cowards from the foe

Who seek our mettle to dethrone.

Fill the ranks with brave and true

And honest ones with light imbued,

Who, though they falter in the march,

Still press they on, with fervent heart.

Fill the ranks, and name the dead,

And go you forward in their stead,

That lands they sought long to defend

Continue on, ’til bitter end.