Pierre Jean de Beranger

Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
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Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
To seek its starry home.

Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.

Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.

And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when read more

And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when the good man died.
[Fr., Ce n'est que lorsqu'il expira
Que le peuple, qui l'enterra pleura.]

Our friends, the enemy.
[Fr., Nos amis, les ennemis.]

Our friends, the enemy.
[Fr., Nos amis, les ennemis.]