He is courted by all;
His step is the lightest that trips in the dance,
With his sword on his thigh,
And a smile in his eye,
Each belle doth acknowledge his bow and his glance,
With his nodding plume, and his manners so free,
A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me.
When there’s mischief to pay,
He is first in the fray,
Nor blanches when death-shots are falling around,