(A prosecuted Song.)

Comrades, around this humble board,
Here's to our banner's by-gone splendour.
There may be treason in that word —
All Europe may the proof afford —
All France be the offender;
But drink the toast
That gladdens most,
Fires the young heart and cheers the old —
" May France once more
Her iri-color
Blest with new life behold! "

List to my secret. That old flag
Under my bed of straw is hidden,
Sacred to glory! War-worn rag!
Thee no informer thence shall drag,
Nor dastard spy say 'tis forbidden.
France, I can vouch,
Will, from its couch,
The dormant symbol yet unfold,
And wave once more
Her tri-color
Through Europe, uncontrolled!

For every drop of blood we spent,
Did not that flag give value plenty?
Were not our children as they went,
Jocund, to join the warrior's tent,
Soldiers at ten, heroes at twenty?
F RANCE ! who were then
Your noblemen?
Not they of parchment-must and mould!
But they who bore
Your tri-color
Through Europe, uncontrolled!

Leipsic hath seen our eagle fall,
Drunk with renown, worn out with glory;
But, with the emblem of old Gaul
Crowning our standard, we'll recall
The brightest days of Valmy's story!
With terror pale
Shall despots quail,
When in their ear the tale is told,
Of France once more
Her tri-color
Preparing to unfold!

Trust not the lawless ruffian chiel,
Worse than the vilest monarch he!
Down with the dungeon and Bastille!
But let our country never kneel
To that grim idol, Anarchy!
Strength shall appear
On our frontier —
France shall be Liberty's stronghold!
Then earth once more
The tri-color
With blessings shall behold!

O my old flag! that liest hid,
There where my sword and musket lie —
Banner, come forth! for tears unbid
Are filling fast a warrior's lid,
Which thou alone canst dry
A soldier's grief
Shall find relief;
A veteran's heart shall be consoled —
France shall once more
Her tri-color
Triumphanlly unfold!