Verse 1

You are going far away, far away from poor Jeanette,
There is no one left to love me now, and you too, may forget;
But my heart will be with you, wherever you may go,
Can you look me in the face and say the same to Jeanette?

Verse 2

When you wear the jacket red and the beautiful cockade,
It's then I fear that you will forget the promises you made;
With the gun upon your shoulder, and the dagger by your side,
You'll be taking some proud lady and be making her your bride.

Verse 3

O if I were the Queen of France, or still better, Pope of Rome,
I'd have no fighting men abroad, no weeping maids at home;
All the world should be at peace, or, if kings must show their might,
Let them who make the quarrels be the only men to fight.