To think I could forget you in the home I leave behind.
There’s not a lady in the land, and if she were a queen,
Could win my heart from you, Jeannette, so true as you have been;
They must have gallant warriors, chance has cast the lot on me,
But, mind you, that this soldier, love, must no deserter be.
But, mind, &c.
Why, since the world began, the surest road to fame,
Has been the field where men unknown might win themselves a name.
And well I know the brightest eyes have all the brighter shone,
When looking at some warrior bold return’d from battles won.