On the 16th day of June, my boys, in Flanders where we lay,
The bugle did the alarm sound, before the break of day;
The British, Belgians, Brunswickers, and Hanoverians too,
They Brussels left that morning for the plains of Waterloo.
By a forced march we did advance, till three in the afternoon,
Each British heart with ardour burned to pull the tyrant down,
Near Quatre-Bras we met the French, their shape to us seemed new,
For in steel armour they were clad, for the plains of Waterloo.
Napoleon to his soldiers said, before that they began,
‘My heroes, if we lose the day, our nation is undone;
The Prussians we've already beat, so we'll beat the British too,
And display victorious eagles on the plains of Waterloo.’
Our immortal leader Wellington no speech to us did make,
We were Peninsula heroes, and oft had made them shake—
At Vittoria, Salamanca, Toulouse, and Burgos too;—
They beheld their former conquerors on the plains of Waterloo.
In bright array Britannia stood, and viewed her sons that day,
Then to her much loved hero went, and thus to him did say,—
‘If you the wreath of laurel twist from your opponent's brow,
Through ages all you shall be called the Prince of Waterloo.’
The bloody fight it then began, and the cannons they did roar,
We being short of cavalry, they pressèd us full sore,
Three British cheers we gave them, with volleys not a few,
Which made them wish themselves in France, and far from Waterloo.
For full four hours or longer we sustained this bloody fray,
And during a long darksome night upon our arms we lay;
The order of our General, next day we did pursue,
We retired in files, for near six miles, to the plains of Waterloo.
This day both armies kept their ground, when scarce a shot was fired,
The French did boast a victory gained, because we had retired;
This noble act of generalship them from their strongholds drew,
Where we got some share, by fighting fair, on the plains of Waterloo.
On the 18th, in the morning, both armies did advance,
On this side stood brave Albion's sons, on that the pride of France;
The fate of Europe in our hands, each man his sabre drew,
And, ‘Death or Victory!’ was the word on the plains of Waterloo.
Upon our right they did begin, Prince Jerome led the van,
With Imperial Guards and Cuirassiers, thought nothing could withstand:
But British steel soon made them yield, though our numbers were but few,
We prisoners made, but more lay dead, on the plains of Waterloo.
Then to our left they beat their course, in disappointed rage,
The Belgian line fought for a time, but could not stand the charge!
There Caledon took up her drone, and loud her chanter blew,
Played Marshal Ney a new strathspey to the tune of Waterloo.
Here's a health to George our Royal King, and long may he govern,
Likewise the Duke of Wellington, that noble son of Erin!
Two years they added to our time for pay and pension too,
And now we are recorded as men of Waterloo.
The bugle did the alarm sound, before the break of day;
The British, Belgians, Brunswickers, and Hanoverians too,
They Brussels left that morning for the plains of Waterloo.
By a forced march we did advance, till three in the afternoon,
Each British heart with ardour burned to pull the tyrant down,
Near Quatre-Bras we met the French, their shape to us seemed new,
For in steel armour they were clad, for the plains of Waterloo.
Napoleon to his soldiers said, before that they began,
‘My heroes, if we lose the day, our nation is undone;
The Prussians we've already beat, so we'll beat the British too,
And display victorious eagles on the plains of Waterloo.’
Our immortal leader Wellington no speech to us did make,
We were Peninsula heroes, and oft had made them shake—
At Vittoria, Salamanca, Toulouse, and Burgos too;—
They beheld their former conquerors on the plains of Waterloo.
In bright array Britannia stood, and viewed her sons that day,
Then to her much loved hero went, and thus to him did say,—
‘If you the wreath of laurel twist from your opponent's brow,
Through ages all you shall be called the Prince of Waterloo.’
The bloody fight it then began, and the cannons they did roar,
We being short of cavalry, they pressèd us full sore,
Three British cheers we gave them, with volleys not a few,
Which made them wish themselves in France, and far from Waterloo.
For full four hours or longer we sustained this bloody fray,
And during a long darksome night upon our arms we lay;
The order of our General, next day we did pursue,
We retired in files, for near six miles, to the plains of Waterloo.
This day both armies kept their ground, when scarce a shot was fired,
The French did boast a victory gained, because we had retired;
This noble act of generalship them from their strongholds drew,
Where we got some share, by fighting fair, on the plains of Waterloo.
On the 18th, in the morning, both armies did advance,
On this side stood brave Albion's sons, on that the pride of France;
The fate of Europe in our hands, each man his sabre drew,
And, ‘Death or Victory!’ was the word on the plains of Waterloo.
Upon our right they did begin, Prince Jerome led the van,
With Imperial Guards and Cuirassiers, thought nothing could withstand:
But British steel soon made them yield, though our numbers were but few,
We prisoners made, but more lay dead, on the plains of Waterloo.
Then to our left they beat their course, in disappointed rage,
The Belgian line fought for a time, but could not stand the charge!
There Caledon took up her drone, and loud her chanter blew,
Played Marshal Ney a new strathspey to the tune of Waterloo.
Here's a health to George our Royal King, and long may he govern,
Likewise the Duke of Wellington, that noble son of Erin!
Two years they added to our time for pay and pension too,
And now we are recorded as men of Waterloo.