A Waterloo Ballad
To Waterloo, with sad ado,
And many a sigh and groan,
Amongst the dead, came Patty Head,
To look for Peter Stone.
" O prithee tell, good sentinel,
If I shall find him here?
I'm come to weep upon his corse,
My Ninety-Second dear!
" Into our town a sergeant came
With ribbons all so fine,
A-flaunting in his cap — alas!
His bow enlisted mine!
" They taught him how to turn his toes,
And stand as stiff as starch;
I thought that it was love and May,
But it was love and March!
" A sorry March indeed to leave
The friends he might have kep, —
No March of Intellect it was,
But quite a foolish step.
" O prithee tell, good sentinel,
If hereabout he lies?
I want a corpse with reddish hair,
And very sweet blue eyes. "
Her sorrow on the sentinel
Appeared to deeply strike: —
" Walk in, " he said, " among the dead,
And pick out which you like. "
And soon she picked out Peter Stone,
Half turned into a corse;
A cannon was his bolster, and
His mattress was a horse.
" O Peter Stone, O Peter Stone,
Lord, here has been a skrimmage!
What have they done to your poor breast
That used to hold my image? "
" O Patty Head, O Patty Head,
You're come to my last kissing;
Before I'm set in the Gazette
As wounded, dead, and missing!
" Alas! a splinter of a shell
Right in my stomach sticks;
French mortars don't agree so well
With stomachs as French bricks.
" This very night a merry dance
At Brussels was to be; —
Instead of opening a ball,
A ball has opened me.
" Its billet every bullet has,
And well it does fulfil it; —
I wish mine hadn't come so straight,
But been a " crooked billet."
" And then there came a cuirassier
And cut me on the chest; —
He had no pity in his heart,
For he had steeled his breast .
" Next thing a lancer, with his lance,
Began to thrust away;
I called for quarter, but, alas!
It was not Quarter-day.
" He ran his spear right through my arm,
Just here above the joint: —
O Patty dear, it was no joke,
Although it had a point.
" With loss of blood I fainted off,
As dead as women do —
But soon by charging over me,
The Coldstream brought me to.
" With kicks and cuts, and balls and blows,
I throb and ache all over;
I'm quite convinced the field of Mars
Is not a field of clover!
" O why did I a soldier turn
For any royal Guelph?
I might have been a butcher, and
In business for myself!
" O why did I the bounty take
(And here he gasped for breath)
My shillingsworth of list is nailed
Upon the door of death!
" Without a coffin I shall lie
And sleep my sleep eternal:
Not ev'n a shell — my only chance
Of being made a Kernel!
" O Patty dear, our wedding bells
Will never ring at Chester!
Here I must lie in Honour's bed,
That isn't worth a tester!
" Farewell, my regimental mates,
With whom I used to dress!
My corps is changed, and I am now,
In quite another mess.
" Farewell, my Patty dear, I have
No dying consolations,
Except, when I am dead, you'll go
And see th' Illuminations. "
And many a sigh and groan,
Amongst the dead, came Patty Head,
To look for Peter Stone.
" O prithee tell, good sentinel,
If I shall find him here?
I'm come to weep upon his corse,
My Ninety-Second dear!
" Into our town a sergeant came
With ribbons all so fine,
A-flaunting in his cap — alas!
His bow enlisted mine!
" They taught him how to turn his toes,
And stand as stiff as starch;
I thought that it was love and May,
But it was love and March!
" A sorry March indeed to leave
The friends he might have kep, —
No March of Intellect it was,
But quite a foolish step.
" O prithee tell, good sentinel,
If hereabout he lies?
I want a corpse with reddish hair,
And very sweet blue eyes. "
Her sorrow on the sentinel
Appeared to deeply strike: —
" Walk in, " he said, " among the dead,
And pick out which you like. "
And soon she picked out Peter Stone,
Half turned into a corse;
A cannon was his bolster, and
His mattress was a horse.
" O Peter Stone, O Peter Stone,
Lord, here has been a skrimmage!
What have they done to your poor breast
That used to hold my image? "
" O Patty Head, O Patty Head,
You're come to my last kissing;
Before I'm set in the Gazette
As wounded, dead, and missing!
" Alas! a splinter of a shell
Right in my stomach sticks;
French mortars don't agree so well
With stomachs as French bricks.
" This very night a merry dance
At Brussels was to be; —
Instead of opening a ball,
A ball has opened me.
" Its billet every bullet has,
And well it does fulfil it; —
I wish mine hadn't come so straight,
But been a " crooked billet."
" And then there came a cuirassier
And cut me on the chest; —
He had no pity in his heart,
For he had steeled his breast .
" Next thing a lancer, with his lance,
Began to thrust away;
I called for quarter, but, alas!
It was not Quarter-day.
" He ran his spear right through my arm,
Just here above the joint: —
O Patty dear, it was no joke,
Although it had a point.
" With loss of blood I fainted off,
As dead as women do —
But soon by charging over me,
The Coldstream brought me to.
" With kicks and cuts, and balls and blows,
I throb and ache all over;
I'm quite convinced the field of Mars
Is not a field of clover!
" O why did I a soldier turn
For any royal Guelph?
I might have been a butcher, and
In business for myself!
" O why did I the bounty take
(And here he gasped for breath)
My shillingsworth of list is nailed
Upon the door of death!
" Without a coffin I shall lie
And sleep my sleep eternal:
Not ev'n a shell — my only chance
Of being made a Kernel!
" O Patty dear, our wedding bells
Will never ring at Chester!
Here I must lie in Honour's bed,
That isn't worth a tester!
" Farewell, my regimental mates,
With whom I used to dress!
My corps is changed, and I am now,
In quite another mess.
" Farewell, my Patty dear, I have
No dying consolations,
Except, when I am dead, you'll go
And see th' Illuminations. "
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