Music's influence he owns;
His lusty heart beats quick, and high;
War has still its melody.
But, when the hard fought day is done,
And the battle's fairly won;
Oh! then he trolls the jolly note,
In triumph, thro' his rusty throat;
And all the story of the strife
He carols to the merry fife.
His comrades join, their feats to tell;