Now quick the drum is beat to arms;
We run the flag of France on high;
The battle fierce each bosom warms,
And adds a light to every eye.
And forth our lady chieftain came,
All fearless from her chaste alcove;
But first she snatched from duty's claim
One moment for a mother's love;—
One moment pressed her darling child,
And kissed its slumbers with a tear;