And when the siege is over, we to the town repair,
The townsmen cry huzza, 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, row, for the British grenadiers.
Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the loopèd clothes.
May they and their commanders live happy all their years,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British grenadiers!
Anonymous. (Written about 1760.)