A revolutionary army engineer and amateur poet composed this song in one night as a marching song for the French Revolutionary Army of the Rhine. Its new name derived from its popularity among the volunteers from Marseille, who sang it as they marched into Paris.
The French National Convention chose it as the national anthem in 1795. Because of its revolutionary association Napoleon stopped using it after he crowned himself emperor in 1804, and Louis XVIII banned it when he was restored to the monarcy in 1815. It was reauthorized during the revolution of 1830, but banned again in by Napoleon III in 1851 after the revolution of 1848 failed. Since 1879 it has been the official national anthem. The text of the first and sixth verses (those usually used at public occasions) is translated here, as is the ever-popular chorus.

Let us go, children of the fatherland, Our day of glory has arrived. Against us, by tyranny, The bloody flag is raised; the bloody flag is raised. Do you hear in the countryside The roar of those savage soldiers? They come right into our arms To cut the throats of our sons, our comrades. To arms, citizens! Form your battalions, Let us march, let us march! Nothing but their impure blood Should water our fields. Sacred love of the fatherland, Guide and support our vengeful arms. Liberty, beloved liberty, Fight with your defenders; fight with your defenders. Under our flags, so that victory Will rush to your manly strains; That your dying enemies Should see your triumph and glory! To arms, citizens! Form your battalions, Let us march, let us march! Nothing but their impure blood Should water our fields.

Allons, enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrivé. Contre nous, de la tyrannie, L'étendard sanglant est levé; l'étendard sanglant est levé. Entendez-vous, dans les campagnes Mugir ces féroces soldats? Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras Égorger nos fils, nos compagnes. Aux armes, citoyens! Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons. Amour sacré de la Patrie, Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs. Liberté, liberté chérie, Combats avec tes défenseurs; combats avec tes défenseurs. Sous nos drapeaux, que la victoire Accoure à tes mâles accents; Que tes ennemis expirants Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire! Aux armes, citoyens! Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons! Qu'un sang impur Abreuve nos sillons.