Turned back my gaze, on Spain's romantic shore
I see Gaul bending by the grave of Moore,
And later, when the page of Fame I scan
I see brave France at deadly Inkerman,
While on red Balaklava's field I hear
Gallia's applause swell Albion's ringing cheer,
England and France, as Allies, side by side
Fought on the Pieho's melancholy tide,
And there, brave Tattnall, ere the fight was done,
Stirred English hearts as far as shone the sun,
Or tides and billows in their courses run.
That day, 'mid the dark Pieho's slaughter
He said: "Blood is thicker than water!"
And your true man though "brayed in a mortar"
At feast, or at fray
Will still feel it and say
As he said: "Blood is thicker than water!"

And full homely is the saying but this story always starts
An answer from ten thousand times ten thousand kindred hearts.

Then let us pray that as the sun shines ever on the sea
Fair Peace forevermore may smile upon the Splendid Three!

May happy France see purple grapes a-glow on all her hills,
And England breast-deep in her corn laugh back the laugh of rills!

May this fair land to which all roads lead as the roads of Rome
Led to th' eternal city's gates still offer Man a home -

A home of peace and plenty, and of freedom and of ease,
With all before him where to choose between the shining seas!

May the war-cries of the Captains yield to happy reapers shouts,
And the clover whiten bastions and the olive shade redoubts!