Air
TUNE: Sodger Laddie
I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when,
And still my delight is in proper young men;
Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,
No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de dal, &c.
The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;
His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,
Transported I was with my sodger laddie. [soldier]
But the godly old chaplain left him in a lurch;
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;
He risked the soul, and I ventur'd the body,--
then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie.
Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,
The regiment at large for a husband I got;
From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,
I asked no more but a sodger laddie.
But the peace it reduced me to beg in despair,
Till I met my old boy at a Cunningham fair;
His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,
My heart it rejoiced at a sodger laddie.
And now I have liv'd--I know not how long,
And still I can join in a cup or a song;
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,
Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie!
Recitativo
Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk [corner]
Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie; [tinker wench]
They mind't na wha the chorus teuk, [took]
Between themselves they were sae busy,
At length, wi' drink and courting dizzy,
He stoitered up an' made a face; [staggered]
Then turn'd, an' laid a smack on Grizzy,
Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace.
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