Soldier's Chorus

Glory and love to the men of old
Their sons may copy their virtues bold
Courage in heart and a sword in hand
Both ready to fight and ready to die for Fatherland

Who needs bidding to dare by a trumpet blown?
Who lacks pity to spare when the field is won?
Who would fly from a foe if alone or lost?
And boast he was true, as coward might do when peril is past?

Glory and love to the men of old
Their sons may copy their virtues bold
Courage in heart and a sword in hand
All ready to fight for Fatherland

Now to home again we come, the long and fiery strife of battle over
Rest is pleasant after toil as hard as ours beneath a stranger sun
Many a maiden fair is waiting here to greet her truant soldier lover
And many a heart will fail and brow grow pale to hear the tale of cruel peril he has run

We are at home
Glory and love to the men of old
Their sons may copy their virtues bold
Courage in heart and a sword in hand
All ready to fight for Fatherland
All ready to fight, or ready to die for Fatherland