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I.
Si j’étais officier de cette grande armée
Dont l’Angleterre ici met quelques régiments,
Par mon noble maintien toute femme charmée
Baisserait pavillon, au feu des sentiments
De mon cœur chaleureux. — Oh ! je serais superbe !
De mes quatre chevaux l’attelage princier
Foulerait, au galop, les passants comme l’herbe ;
Que je serais heureux, si j’étais officier !
II.
Si j’étais officier, je voudrais, à la danse,
Être le cavalier de la reine du bal ;
Je me rirais bien fort du vain peuple qui pense
Que la vie est, pour moi, « l’éternel carnaval. »
« Aimer, boire, se battre, » eh ! c’est toute la vie !
D’un cœur sensible et franc pourquoi se soucier ?
Voler de fleur en fleur, toujours l’âme ravie,
Ce serait là mon plan si j’étais officier !
III.
Si j’étais officier, courageux à la guerre,
Je saurais, en un mot, profiter de la paix,
L’audace est, après tout, fort bonne conseillère ;
Jeune, j’étais timide, hélas ! je me trompais !
« Du front, toujours du front ! » — Ce sera ma devise ;
Pourquoi par le bonheur tant se faire prier ?
Bien d’autres avant moi… ; parbleu ! je me ravise,
Et veux être hardi tout comme un officier !
I.
Oh, would I were an Officer
Of Britain’s legions grand !
Whose presence here inspires with a we
The people of the land :
Each pretty girl her heart would give
At sight of such a swell ! —
With horses four, I’d pass her door,
And drive in princely style,
Sensation make, a stir create
And scatter crowds pell-mell.
Oh, would I were an Officer !
II.
Oh, would I were an Officer !
At every bail and rout,
The partner of the belle I’d be
Although the rest might pout ;
Not much I’d rare for people who
Might think my life a scene
Of pleasure and unmixed delight —
I’d live as in a dream.
Free as a bee I’d buzz along
And fly from flower to flower,
My soul entranced, with bliss enthralled,
I would not lose an hour.
Oh, would I were an Officer !
III.
Oh, would I were an Officer !
Though brave I’d be in war,
In time of peace good rare I’d take
Nought should my pleasure mar.
Brass, after all, is quite the thing !
When young I was mistaken,
I knew it not, and thus it came
That I was quite forsaken.
My motto for the nonce shall be
Let Brass and Bronze prevail !
Why should I not enjoy myself ?
I know I cannot fail :
So many of the scarlet cloth
For days and years gone past
Have revelled in all kinds of joy !!
Where’er their lot was cast.
Then would I were an Officer
The bravest of the brave
In peace or war
In lands afar
What jolly fun I’d have !