HALIFAX
FACING the ocean, guardian of our land,Thy frowning forts and ramparts front the foamWhose waves still ceaseless chafe the rocky strand,While salt winds waft sea-odors o'er our home.All the round year the tramp of armed men,Crisp bugle call, the guns at noon and night,And martial music, tell us o'er againThat Britain guards us with a jealous might.
FACING the ocean, guardian of our land,Thy frowning forts and ramparts front the foamWhose waves still ceaseless chafe the rocky strand,While salt winds waft sea-odors o'er our home.All the round year the tramp of armed men,Crisp bugle call, the guns at noon and night,And martial music, tell us o'er againThat Britain guards us with a jealous might.
FACING the ocean, guardian of our land,Thy frowning forts and ramparts front the foamWhose waves still ceaseless chafe the rocky strand,While salt winds waft sea-odors o'er our home.
FACING the ocean, guardian of our land,
Thy frowning forts and ramparts front the foam
Whose waves still ceaseless chafe the rocky strand,
While salt winds waft sea-odors o'er our home.
All the round year the tramp of armed men,Crisp bugle call, the guns at noon and night,And martial music, tell us o'er againThat Britain guards us with a jealous might.
All the round year the tramp of armed men,
Crisp bugle call, the guns at noon and night,
And martial music, tell us o'er again
That Britain guards us with a jealous might.