The Reveille

Trumpets of the Lancer Corps,

Sound a loud reveille;

Sound it over Sydney shore,

Send the message far and wide

Down the Richmond River side —

Boot and saddle, mount and ride,

Sound a loud reveille.

Whither go ye, Lancers gay,

With your bold reveille?

O'er the ocean far away

From your sunny southern home,

Over leagues of trackless foam,

In a foreign land to roam

With your bold reveille.

When we hear our brethren call,

Sound a clear reveille.

Then we answer, one and all,

Answer that the world may see,

“Of the English stock are we,

At their side we still will be” —

That's our bold reveille.