"And from their tops the nightingale
Rings out her carol free.
"We saw, above the laurels,
His soul fly forth amain;
"And each one fell upon his face
And then rose up again.
"And so we sang the glories
For which great Malbrouck bled;
"And when the whole was ended
Each one went off to bed.
"I say no more, my Lady,
Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,
I say no more, my Lady,
As nought more can be said."
