Ilk smack still did crack still, AIR. Tune-"Soldier's Joy." I. I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars, And show my cuts and scars wherever I come: This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench, When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum. Lal de daudle, &c. II. My prenticeship I past where my leader breath'd his last, When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram; 1 served out my trade when the gallant game was play'd, And the moro low was laid at the sound of the drum. Lal de daudle, &c. III. I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries, IV. And now tho' I must beg with a wooden arm and leg, And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my bum, I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callel, As when l'us'd in scarlet to follow a drum. Lal de daudle, &c. V. What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks, Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home, When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell, I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of the drum, Lal de daudle, &c. RECITATIVO. He ended; and the kebars sheuk, While frighted rattons backward leuk, He skir'd out encore ! AIR. Tune-"Soldier Laddie." I. I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. II. The first of my loves was a swaggering blade, His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy, Transported I was with my sodger laddie, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. III. But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch, IV. Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. V. But the peace it reduc'd me to beg in despair, VI. And now I have liv'd I-know not how long, But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie. [steady, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. RECITATIVO. Then niest outspak a raucle carlin, Her dove had been a Highland laddie, Tune "O an ye were dead, Gudeman." I. A Highland lad my love was born, CHORUS. Sing, hey my braw John Highlandman! Sing, ho my braw John Highlandman! There's not a lad in a' the lan' Was match for my John Highlandman. II. With his philibeg an' tartan plaid, III. We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey, IV. They banish'd him beyond the sea, Adown my cheeks the pearls ran, V. But, oh! they catch'd him at the last, They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman. VI. And now a widow, I must mourn When I think on John Highlandman. RECITATIVO. A pigmy scraper, wi' his fiddle, Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle, Wi' hand on haunch, an' upward e'e, The wee Apollo Set off wi' Allegretto glee His giga solo. |