Dauntless sons of Celtic sires, 
Whose souls the love of freedom fires; 
Hark, ev'ry harp to war inspires 
On Cader Idris side. 
See the brave advancing, 
See the brave advancing! 
Each well-tried spear, which Saxons fear, 
In warlike splendour glancing! 
Proud Harlech1 from her frowning towers 
Pours forth her never failing powers: 
Rouse, heroes, glory shall be ours; 
March on, your country's pride!

Shall heart-rending sounds of woe 
Be heard where Conway's waters flow? 
Or shall a rude and ruthless foe 
Find here one willing slave? 
From mountain and from valley, 
From mountain and from valley; 
From Snowdon, from Plinlimmon's brow, 
Around your Prince ye rally. 
Let cowards kiss th' oppressor's scourge, 
Home to his heart your weapons urge, 
Or whelm him in th' avenging surge; 
To victory, ye brave!