Classic Poem

To arms, to arms, when captains cry,
With a heigho! the trumpets blow—
To legs, to legs, brave boys, say I!
Heigho!
I needs must go.

Arrows swift begin to fly,
With a heigho! Twang goes the bow,
And soldiers tumble down and die;
Heigho!
I'll not do so.

Whizzing by come balls of lead;
With a heigho! thump they go.
Tall men grow shorter by the head;
Heigho!
I'd rather grow.

In time of trouble I'm away;
With a heigho!—ill winds blow;
But always ready at pay day;
Heigho!
Great folks do so.