“ Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand grenades;
We throw them from the glacis about the Frenchman's ears,
With a tow, row row, row row, row row, for the British grenadiers.
And when the siege is over, we to the town repair,
The townsmen cry huzza, boys, here comes a grenadier,—
Here come the grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears.
Then sing tow, row row, row row, row row, for the British grenadiers.
Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the looped clothes. ”