And chivalry’s defiance spoke the words:
‘A vous, Messieurs les Anglais, les premiers!’
Let the dull beer-apostle till he’s hoarse
Vent his small spleen and spite—
Fate fill his sleepless night
With nightmares of invincible remorse!
We sing Champagne, the sparkling soul of mirth,
That, bubbling o’er with laughing gas,
Flashes gay sunbeams in the glass,
And like our flag goes proudly round the earth.