 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THE BOWLD SOJER BOY.
Oh! there's not a trade that's going,
Worth showing,
Or knowing,
Like that from glory growing
For a bowld sojer boy!
When right or left we go,
Sure you know,
Friend or foe
Will have the hand or toe,
From a bowld sojer boy!
There's not a town we march thro',
But the ladies, looking arch thro'
The window panes, will search thro'
The ranks to find their joy;
While up the street
Each girl you meet,
With look so sly,
Will cry
“My eye!
Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy!”
Worth showing,
Or knowing,
Like that from glory growing
For a bowld sojer boy!
When right or left we go,
Sure you know,
Friend or foe
Will have the hand or toe,
From a bowld sojer boy!
There's not a town we march thro',
But the ladies, looking arch thro'
The window panes, will search thro'
The ranks to find their joy;
While up the street
Each girl you meet,
With look so sly,
Will cry
“My eye!
Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy!”
87
But when we get the route,
How they pout
And they shout,
While to the right about
Goes the bowld sojer boy;
Oh, 'tis then, that ladies fair
In despair
Tear their hair,
But “the divil-a-one I care,”
Says the bowld sojer boy!
For the world is all before us,
Where the landladies adore us,
And ne'er refuse to score us,
But chalk us up with joy;
We taste her tap—
We tear her cap—
“Oh! that's the chap
For me!”
Says she,
“Oh! isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy!”
How they pout
And they shout,
While to the right about
Goes the bowld sojer boy;
Oh, 'tis then, that ladies fair
In despair
Tear their hair,
But “the divil-a-one I care,”
Says the bowld sojer boy!
For the world is all before us,
Where the landladies adore us,
And ne'er refuse to score us,
But chalk us up with joy;
We taste her tap—
We tear her cap—
“Oh! that's the chap
For me!”
Says she,
“Oh! isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy!”
“Then come along with me,
Gramachree,
And you'll see
How happy you will be
With your bowld sojer boy;
Faith! if you're up to fun,
With me run,
'Twill be done
In the snapping of a gun,”
Says the bold sojer boy;
And 'tis then that, without scandal,
Myself will proudly dandle
The little farthing candle
Of our mutual flame, my joy;
May his light shine
As bright as mine,
Till in the line
He'll blaze,
And raise
The glory of his corps, like a bowld sojer boy!”
Gramachree,
And you'll see
How happy you will be
With your bowld sojer boy;
Faith! if you're up to fun,
With me run,
'Twill be done
In the snapping of a gun,”
Says the bold sojer boy;
88
Myself will proudly dandle
The little farthing candle
Of our mutual flame, my joy;
May his light shine
As bright as mine,
Till in the line
He'll blaze,
And raise
The glory of his corps, like a bowld sojer boy!”
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |