The People’s War
O husbandmen of hill and dale,
O dressers of the vines,
O sea-tossed fighters of the gale,
O hewers of the mines,
O wealthy ones who need not strive,
O sons of learning, art,
O craftsmen of the city’s hive,
O traders of the man,
Hark to the cannon’s thunder-call
Appealing to the brave!
Your France is wounded, and may fall
Beneath the foreign grave!
Then gird your loins! Let none delay
Her glory to maintain;
Drive out the foe, throw off his sway,
Win back your land again!