The March to Moscow

The Emperor Nap he would set off
On a summer excursion to Moscow;
The fields were green, and the sky was blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
What a pleasant excursion to Moscow !

Four hundred thousand men and more
Must go with him to Moscow:
There were Marshals by the dozen,
And Dukes by the score ;
Princes a few, and Kings one or two ;
While the fields are so green, and the sky so blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
What a pleasant excursion to Moscow !

There was Junot and Augereau.
Heigh-ho for Moscow !
Dombrowsky and Poniatowsky,
Marshal Ney, lack-a-day!
General Rapp, and the Emperor Nap ;
Nothing would do
While the fields were so green, and the sky so blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
Nothing would do
For the whole of this crew,
But they must be marching to Moscow.

The Emperor Nap he talk'd so big
That he frighten'd Mr. Roscoe.
John Bull, he cries, if you'll be wise,
Ask the Emperor Nap if he will please
To grant you peace upon your knees,
Because he is going to Moscow !
He'll make all the Poles come out of their holes.
And beat the Russians and eat the Prussians,
For the fields are green, and the sky is blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
And he'll certainly march to Moscow!

And Counsellor Brougham was all in a fame
At the thought of the march to Moscow :
The Russians, he said, they were undone,
And the great Fee-Faw-Fum
Would presently come
With a hop, step, and jump unto London.
For as for his conquering Russia,
However some persons might scoff it,
Do it he could, and do it he would,
And from doing it nothing would come but good.
And nothing could call him off it
Mr. Jeffrey said so, who most certainly know,
For he was the Edinburgh Prophet
They all of them knew Mr. Jeffrey's Review,
Which with Holy Writ ought to be reckon'd :
It was, through thick and thin to its party true ;
Its back was buff, and its sides were blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu
It served them for Law and for Gospel too.

But the Russians stoutly they turned to
Upon the road to Moscow.
Nap had to fight his way all through ;
They could fight, though they could not parlez-vous,
But the fields were green, and the sky was blue,
Morbleu Parbleu
And so he got to Moscow.

He found the place too warm for him.
For they set fire to Moscow.
To get there had cost him much ado,
And then no better course he knew,
While the fields were green, and the sky was blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
But to march back again from Moscow.

The Russians they stuck close to him
All on the road from Moscow.
There was Tormasow and Jemalow
And all the others that end in ow ;
Milarodovitch and Jaladovitch
And Karatschkowitch,
And all the others that end in itch ;
Schamscheff, Souchosaneff,
And Schepaleff,
And all the others that end in eff ;
Wasiltschikoff, Kostomaroff,
And Tchoglokoff,
And all the others that end in off;
Rajeffsky and Novereffsky
And Rieffsky,
And all the others that end in effsky ;
Oscharoffsky and Rostoffsky,
And all the others that end in offsky ;
And Platoff he play'd them off,
And Shouvaloff he shovell'd them off,
And Markoff he mark'd them off,
And Krosnoff he cross'd them off.
And Tuchkoff he touch'd them off,
And Boroskoff he bored them off,
And Kutousoff he cut them off,
And Parensoff he pared them off,
And Worronsoff he worried them off,
And Doctoroff he doctor'd them off;
And Rodionoff he flogg'd them off.
And last of all an Admiral came,
A terrible man with a terrible name,
A name which you all know by sight very well
But which no one can speak, and no one can spell.
They stuck close to Nap with all their might,
They were on the left and on the right.
Behind and before, and by day and by night,
He would rather parlez-vous than fight ;
But he looked white and he look'd blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu !
When parlez-Tous no more would do,
For they remember'd Moscow.

And then came on the frost and snow
All on the road from Moscow.
The wind and the weather he found in that hour
Cared nothing for him nor for all his power ;
For him who, while Europe crouch'd under his rod,
Put his trust in his fortune, and not in his God.
Worse and worse every day the elements grew,
The fields were so white and the sky so blue,
Sacrebleu Ventrebleu !
What a horrible journey from Moscow !

What then thought the Emperor Nap
Upon the road from Moscow ?
Why, I ween he thought it small delight
To fight all day, and to freeze all night
And he was besides in a very great fright,
For a whole skin he liked to be in ;
And so, not knowing what else to do,
When the fields were so white and the sky so blue,
Morbleu ! Parbleu !
He stole away, I tell you true, ,
Upon the road from Moscow.
'Tis myself, quoth he, I must mind most
So the Devil may take the hindmost

Too cold upon the road was he,
Too hot had he been at Moscow ;
But colder and hotter he may be,
For the grave is colder than Muscovy :
And a place there is to be kept in view
Where the fire is red and the brimstone blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
Which he must go to,
If the Pope say true,
If he does not in time look about him ;
Where his namesake almost
He may have for his Host,
He has reckon'd too long without him,
If that host get him in Purgatory,
He wo'nt leave him there alone with his glory ;
But there he must stay for a very long day,
For from thence there is no stealing away
As there was on the road from Moscow.