This text comes from Songs of French Canada, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Malbrouck has gone a-fighting
(Mironton, mironton, mirontaine)—
Malbrouck has gone a-fighting,
But when will he return?
Perchance he'll come at Easter,
Or else at Trinity term.
But Trinity term is over,
And Malbrouck comes not yet.
My lady climbs her watch-tower,
As high as she can get.
She sees her page approaching,
All clad in sable hue:
"Ah! page, brave page, what tidings
From my true lord bring you?"
"The news I bring, fair lady,
Will make your tears run down;
"Put off your rose-red dress so fine
And doff your satin gown.
"Monsieur Malbrouck is dead, alas!
And buried too, for aye;
"I saw four officiers who bore
His mighty corse away.
"One bore his cuirass, and his friend
His shield of iron wrought;
"The third his mighty sabre bore,
And the fourth—he carried nought.
"And at the corners of his tomb
They planted rosemarie;
"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."