March of the High Guard
Heaven burns, the stars are falling
As the enemy draws nigh.
Sound the call, fleet and lancers,
"Commonwealth" our battle cry.
Face the foe, never waver,
Summon fire from the sky.
From a million sovereign planets
Scattered through the endless night.
Bound by blood and High Guard honor,
Hold the line until the light.
Hold the line against the night.
by Robert Hewitt Wolfe