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The works of Thomas Hood

Comic and serious: In prose and verse. Edited, with notes, by his son

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LOVE LANGUAGE OF A MERRY YOUNG SOLDIER.

“Ach, Gretchen, mein Täubchen.”

O Gretel, my Dove, my heart's Trumpet,
My Cannon, my Big Drum, and also my Musket,
O hear me, my mild little Dove,
In your still little room.
Your portrait, my Gretel, is always on guard,
Is always attentive to Love's parole and watchword;
Your picture is always going the rounds,
My Gretel, I call at every hour!
My heart's knapsack is always full of you;
My looks, they are quartered with you;
And when I bite off the top end of a cartridge,
Then I think that I give you a kiss.
You alone are my Word of Command and orders,
Yea, my Right-face, Left-face, Brown Tommy, and wine,
And at the word of command “Shoulder Arms!”
Then I think you say “Take me in your arms.”
Your eyes sparkle like a Battery,
Yea, they wound like Bombs and Grenades;
As black as gunpowder is your hair,
Your hand as white as Parading breeches!
Yes, you are the Match and I am the Cannon;
Have pity, my love, and give quarter,
And give the word of command, “Wheel round
Into my heart's Barrack Yard.”