John Hill Hewitt - Oh! Mount Thy Bright and Gallant Steed

1.
Oh! mount thy bright and gallant steed,
My warrior boy, the foe is near;
Greece calls thee in the time of need;
Then why inglorious tarry here?
Say, can I love thee half so well,
As when oft to the battle cry,
How proud I saw thy bosom swell,
Or mark’d the flashing of thine eye
Oh! mount thy bright and gallant steed,
My warrior boy, the foe is near;
Greece calls then in the time of need,
Then why inglorious tarry here?

2.
Oh! raise on high thy banner bright,
The cresent waves upon the air;
Up rise the brothers in their might,
Oh! warrior boy why tarry here?
Fame bids thee fix thy snowy plume,
And mount thy charge for the fray.
Love twines thee flow’rs of fairy bloom,
But none like those in glory’s bay.
Oh! raise on high thy banner bright,
Thy cresent waves upon the air;
Up rise thy brother’s in their might,
Oh! warrior boy why tarry here?