From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
The night's a trifle chilly
and the stars are very bright,
a heavy dew is falling
but the tent is rigged a'right.
You may rest your bones till morning,
but, should you chance to wake,
give me a call about the time
that daylight starts to break
-Breaker Morant