Whene'er we are commanded to storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fuses, and we with hand grenades,
We throw them from the glacis, about the enemies' ears,
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers!
And when the siege is over, we to the town repair,
The townsmen cry, 'Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier!
Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears!'
Then sing, tow, row, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers!
Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the loupèd clothes,
May they and their commanders live happy all their years,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers!
HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN
ANONYMOUS
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Now to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.
Let the toast pass,
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove
An excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize,
Now to the damsel with none, Sir,
Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And now to the nymph with but one, Sir.
Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow,
Now to her that's as brown as a berry,
Here's to the wife with a face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry.