(From the Thirty Years’ War.)
The brave hussars I dearly love,
I love each gallant fellow;
Without distinction I love them all,
The blue as well as the yellow.
The musketeers I dearly love,
I love the musketeers, too;
The officers, privates, and recruits,
And those of older years too.
The infantry and cavalry—
I love the brave fellows sincerely;
And then the artillery,—one and all,
I love them truly and dearly.
I love the Germans, I love the French,
I love the Italians and Dutchmen;
I love the Bohemians, Spaniards, and Swedes,
I love both many and much men.
Whatever may be his native land,
Whatever his faith or persuasion,
Provided a man is sound in health,
I love him on ev’ry occasion.
Religion and country are nothing more
Than his outside clothing,—God bless him.
Away with his cov’ring, that I to my heart
May fondly and warmly press him!
A mortal am I, and only too glad
With any mortal to dally;
And as for the man who can’t pay on the spot,
For him I keep a tally.
The garland green in front of my tent
In the light of the sun smiles gaily,
And I am now drinking malmsey wine
From a fresh-open’d barrel daily.