Bring the comb and play upon it!
Marching, here we come!
Willie cocks his highland bonnet,
Johnnie beats the drum.
Mary Jane commands the party,
Peter leads the rear;
Feet in time, alert and hearty,
Each a Grenadier!
All in the most martial manner
Marching double-quick;
While the napkin, like a banner,
Waves upon the stick!
Here's enough of fame and pillage,
Great commander Jane!
Now that we've been round the village,
Let's go home again.
Marching Song
Robert Louis Stevenson
(1)
Poem topics: home, time, great, play, bring, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Marching Song poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Best Poems of Robert Louis Stevenson