J U N E   1 9 4 0

You are up against it Britain, as you've
       never been before
And a ruthless, brutal, war machine, is knock-
       ing on your door;
It will batter you and bruise you, will destroy
much you hold dear,
Will o'ershadow you with frightfulness, so you
may shake with fear.

You are up against it Britain, and your enemies
       are great,
They will hurl at you their millions, all their
venom - and their hate;
With your Allies beaten to their knees, they
       think you are alone,
They're sure you cannot carry on - no quarter
will be shown.

You are up against it Britain, but your enemies
       don't know,
That little seeds of Empire sown, so many
       years ago,
Have grown from seed and saplings, into tall
       and sturdy trees;
Those sons of British Oak can bend, but never
       on their knees.

You are up against it Britain, but you've been
       like that before,
You've driven off before to-day invaders from
       your shore;
The Bulldog's wrath is slow to rise - to heed
       the mongrel's yelp,
But Bulldogs have - and will again - make
       mongrels cry for help.

You are up against it Britain, and your back is
to the wall.
Around must gather all free men, they dare not
       let you fall;
The right to live in freedom, is as much their
cause as yours,
Their creed or race - it matters not, they must
defend your shores.

You are up against it Britain, but if I read you
       aright
'Tis only when all things seem lost, you really
       start to fight;
Napoleon's words still stand to-day, although
       the years have past:-
"You may lose many battles, but you never
       lose the last."