Christmas Day in far-off Egypt,

Out on the burning plain;

We are thinking of home and dear ones

We ne-er may see again.

We are eating Christmas dinner.

But our minds will not cease to roam

To that far-off land Australia.

That we're proud to call our home.

We have bully beef and biscuits

On which our teeth will ring;

But we must not growl or grumble.

For we're soldiers of the King.

The major has just shouted

Good old Christmas beer.

And wished us joy and plenty

To carry us through the year.

"I've a cable from Australia,"

Said the colonel on parade

"I received it yesterday.

And this is what it said:

"Australia's proud to greet you

On this our Christmas Day.

And hope you'll spend it merrily

In the good Australian way."

But still our hearts will wander

To wives and sweethearts far away.

And wishing we were back again

With them to spend the day.

But now that we are soldiers

We always must "stand by,"

Ready for any emergency,

Ready to do or die.

For the Motherland's in trouble,

And it is no idle boast;

We'd rather die than be the slaves

Of the mighty German host.

But God will see us safely through

Until the day is won;

And John Bull will whisper to us—

"Australia's sons, well done!"