Oh comrade, grant me one last prayer,
When death my hours shall number.
Carry my body back to France.
In French soil let me slumber.
My cross of the legion 
with its scarlet band
Lay close to my heart for a neighbour
And place my carbine in my hand
And buckle on my sabre

And over my grave 
shall the Emperor ride,
‘Midst thunder of hoof-beats ascending,
Then armed to the teeth 
I shall rise from my grave
My Emperor, my Emperor defending.”