Now Sing We of the Brave of Old

Now sing we of the brave of old

who would not sell themselves for gold,

yet left us riches manifold; Alleluia!

​

Of those who fought a goodly fight

for liberty, for truth and right,

their patient love their chiefest might; Alleluia!

​

Who, when no gleam did point the way,

pressed ever on, by night, by day,

and, spite of pain, did ever say Alleluia!

​

Who long the world’s old sorrows bore

and toiled and loved and suffered sore,

and, being dead, live evermore; Alleluia!