He took four hundred thousand men
Likewise some kings to swell his throng
He was so well provided
Enough to sweep the world along

Through the villages of Prussia
Where food was plentiful, and billets sweet
They marched with merry hearts my boys
All through the wealthy fields of wheat

But when they crossed the Nieman
The Russians they ran in retreat
And they burnt all before them
Scorched earth left them nought to eat

No forage nor provisions
Their horses dropped dead in the line
Diseased forced marches
No comfort there in those hard times

Still the enemy refused to fight
Through blazing heat or freezing rain
They chased them to the gates of hell
Through fields of mud, over rough terrain

But when they came to Moscow
They were overpowered by ice and snow
And Moscow was a-blazing
And they lost all heart in grief and woe