Men of Harlech
[2][3] Commanded by Constable Dafydd ap Ieuan, son of the Baron of Hendwr, the garrison withstood the longest known siege in the history of the British Isles.
It is sung twice (once completely) in the film (the British open fire on the charging Zulus before the start of the final couplet), in counterpoint to the Zulu war chants and the pounding of their shields.
Rick Rescorla, Chief of Security for Morgan Stanley's World Trade Center office, sang a Cornish adaptation of "Men of Harlech" with a bullhorn, along with other anthems, to keep employee spirits high while they evacuated during the September 11 attacks.
[11][12] "Men of Harlech" was used as part of the startup music for ITV television station Teledu Cymru during the early 1960s and, until April 2006,[13] in Fritz Spiegl's "BBC Radio 4 UK Theme".
Echoes loudly waking, Hill and valley shaking; 'Till the sound spreads wide around, The Saxon's courage breaking; Your foes on every side assailing, Forward press with heart unfailing, 'Till invaders learn with quailing, Cambria ne'er can yield!
Over might hath triumph'd right, Our land to foes denying; Upon their soil we never sought them, Love of conquest hither brought them, But this lesson we have taught them, "Cambria ne'er can yield!"
From the rocks rebounding, Let the war cry sounding Summon all at Cambria's call, The haughty foe surrounding, Men of Harlech, on to glory!
Frighten'd steeds are wildly neighing, Brazen trumpets hoarsely braying, Wounded men for mercy praying With their parting breath!
By each lofty mountain, By each crystal fountain, By your homes where those you love Await your glad returning, Let each thought and action prove, True glory can the Cymru move, And as each blade gleams in the light, Pray "God defend the right!"
Clans from Mona wending, Now with Arvon blending, Haste with rapid strides along The path that leads to glory, From Snowdon's hills with harp and song, And Nantlle's vale proceeds a throng, Whose ranks with yours shall proudly vie, "And nobly win or die!"
On the foemen dashing, Swords and bucklers clashing; Smite with will their savage band Nor think of e'er retreating: But with a firm unflinching hand, In blood quench ev'ry burning brand, And for each roof tree cast away A Saxon life shall pay.
Thus each bosom nerving, From no danger swerving, Soon shall the invader feel The doom of fate rewarding; They firmly grasp the flashing steel, And as ye strike for Cymru's weal, Be this your cry, till life's last breath - "Our Liberty or Death!"
Source:[16] Verse 1 Tongues of fire on Idris flaring, News of foemen near declaring, To heroic deeds of daring, Call you, Harlech men.
Groans of wounded peasants dying, Wails of wives and children flying, For the distant succour crying, Call you, Harlech Men.
Verse 2 Loud the martial pipes are sounding, Every manly heart is bounding, As our trusted chief surrounding, March we, Harlech men.
Short the sleep the foe is taking; Ere the morrow's morn is breaking, They shall have a rude awakening, Roused by Harlech Men.
Yng ngwyn oleuni'r goelcerth acw Tros wefusau Cymro'n marw Annibyniaeth sydd yn galw Am ei dewraf ddyn.
