'Tis noble for to fight for home,
But some nations fight to plunder,
For conquest o'er the world to roam,
To tear peaceful lands asunder.
For to give wealth and a great name
To some aspiring commander,
Who wishes to acquire great fame
As a modern Alexander.
Statesmen and kings a war will wage,
And many thousands strew the plain,
Covered with gore in the carnage,
Where brave and noble men are slain.
Leaving their families to mourn,
Now who can soothe the ills of life,
To them they never shall return,
No one can now cheer the poor wife.
Or the sweet little orphans dear
Think of father and of mother,
Of sweetheart, sister and of brother,
Who oft will shed the fruitless tear.