My Love's gone a-fighting
Where war-trumpets call,
The wrongs of men righting
With carbine and ball,
And sabre for smiting,
And charger, and all!

Of whom does he think there
Where war-trumpets call?
To whom does he drink there,
With carbine and ball
On battle's red brink there,
And charger, and all?

He hears her voice a-humming
Where war-trumpets call,
"I wait, Love, thy coming
With carbine and ball,
And bandsmen a-drumming
Thee, charger and all!"