And thrust and hew;
Pillage restrain,--
The spoils remain
In reach of every finger,
But not a foe wilt linger.

Ye bold campaigners, praise the Lord,
And strifeful heroes, take now
The prize He doth to us accord,
Good cheer and pillage make now:
What each one finds that let him take,
But friendly share your booty,
For parents', wives', and children's sake,
For household use or beauty.
Pidi, Pom, Pom, Pom,
Field-surge on come,
My gash to bind,
Am nearly blind,--
The arrows stick,
Out pull them quick,--
A bandage here,
To save my ear,--
Come, bind me up,
And reach a cup,--
Ho, here at hand,
I cannot stand,--
Reach hither what you're drinking,
My heart is 'neath me sinking.

War-comrades all, heart's-brothers good,