A soldier am I, all the world o'er I range,
And would not my lot with a monarch exchange;
How welcome a soldier wherever he roves,
Attended, like Venus, by Mars and the Loves!
How dull is the ball and how cheerless the fair,
What's a feast or a frolic, if we are not there?
Kind, hearty and gallant, and joyous we come,
And the world looks alive at the sound of the Drum.

 ... 

Who loves not a Soldier -- the generous, the brave, --
The heart that can feel, and the arm that can save?
In peace the gay friend, with the manners that charm;
The thought ever liberal, the soul ever warm.
In his mind nothing selfish or pitiful known,
'Tis a temple which honour can enter alone.
No titles I boast, yet, wherever I come,
I can always feel proud at the sound of the Drum.