  (From the Thirty Years’ War.) The brave hussars I dearly love, I love each gallant fellow; Without distinction I love them all, The blue as well as the yellow. The musketeers I dearly love, I love the musketeers, too; The officers, privates, and recruits, And those of older years too. The infantry and cavalry— I love the brave fellows sincerely; And then the artillery,—one and all, I love them truly and dearly. I love the Germans, I love the French, I love the Italians and Dutchmen; I love the Bohemians, Spaniards, and Swedes, I love both many and much men. Whatever may be his native land, Whatever his faith or persuasion, Provided a man is sound in health, I love him on ev’ry occasion. Religion and country are nothing more Than his outside clothing,—God bless him. Away with his cov’ring, that I to my heart May fondly and warmly press him! A mortal am I, and only too glad With any mortal to dally; And as for the man who can’t pay on the spot, For him I keep a tally. The garland green in front of my tent In the light of the sun smiles gaily, And I am now drinking malmsey wine From a fresh-open’d barrel daily. |
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