The Smugglers

Les contrebandiers

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

'Tis midnight — ho there, follow me; prepare
Men, mules, and ventures on their backs — it's time:
Forward — ears open for the " Who goes there? " —
Pistols and guns be sure you load and prime!
The officers are out, in force arrayed;
But lead's not dear:
And you know well that in the thickest shade
Our balls see clear

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Comrades, how noble is this life of ours;
What high achievements are there to be told:
How is our fair one gladdened, when in showers
To fill her apron we rain down the gold!
Castle, and house, and cottage in our cause
Are all unbarred:
The people will absolve us, if the laws
Should press us hard

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Braving the snow, the cold, the rain, the gale,
Lulled by the roar of torrents, we can sleep:
And oh, what draughts of courage we inhale
With the pure breezes, o'er the heights that sweep!
Hundreds of times, those peaks that well we know
Our passage greet:
Our heads are in the clouds, and Death below
Yawns at our feet!

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Man might his barter have convenient made,
But taxes blocking up the roads abound;
Then forward, comrades, forward! — such is trade,
That in our hands its balance must be found.
Heaven, shielding us from ills that might befall,
Works out its views —
To bring down plenty to the reach of all,
And wealth diffuse.

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Our rulers seized with dizziness, who now
Triple their tax on all Heaven kindly yields,
Condemn the fruit to wither on the bough,
And break the hammer that the laborer wields
They for their fish-ponds would the rivers take,
That from God's hand
Came forth, ordained by him the thirst to slake
Of man and land

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

What! 'tis their will, that where one tongue is spoken,
Where the same laws long time have been obeyed,
Because some treaty may such bonds have broken,
Two hostile nations should, forsooth, be made!
But no — for, thanks to our exertions, vain
Is that design;
The self-same fleeces shall they spin, and drain
The self-same wine.

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Birds, that at will across the frontier fly,
Find nought to bid them other laws obey:
A summer's sun, perchance, the trench may dry,
That marks the limit of two monarchs' sway
Taxes — the which on bloodshed they will spend —
Are levied there:
We — leaping o'er the barriers they defend —
Little we care

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part

Song for her theme our deeds will often take,
Whose deadly guns such terror spread around,
That whilst they bid the mountain echoes wake,
Freedom herself may waken at their sound
When haughty neighbors strike, and bleeding, low
Our country lies,
Her dying words are, " To the rescue, ho!
Smugglers, arise! "

Hang the excisemen! let us get hold
Of pleasures in plenty, and heaps of gold!
We have the people on our side;
They're all our friends at heart:
Yes, lads, the people far and wide,
The people take our part
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Author of original: 
Pierre Jean de B├®ranger
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