" W HO'LL SERVE THE QUEEN ?" cried the sergeant aloud;
Roll went the drum, and the fife played sweetly;
" Here, master sergeant," said I, from the crowd,
" Is a lad who will answer your purpose completely."
My father was a corporal, and well he knew his trade;
Of women, wine, and gunpowder he never was afraid,
He'd march, fight, left, right!
Front flank! centre rank!
Storm the trenches, court the wenches,
Loved the rattle of a battle,
Died in glory, lives in story!
And, like him, I found a soldier's life, if taken smooth and rough,
A very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.
" Hold up your head," cried the sergeant at drill,
Roll went the drum, and the fife played loudly.
" Turn out your toes, sir!" Says I, " Sir, I will;"
For a nimble-wristed round rattan the sergeant flourished proudly.
My father died when corporal, but I ne'er turned my back,
Till promoted to a halbert, I was sergeant in a crack.
In sword and sash cut a dash;
Spurr'd and booted, next recruited,
Hob and Clod, awkward squad,
Then began my rattan!
When boys unwilling came to drilling.
Till made the colonel's orderly, then who but I, so bluff,
Led a very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.
" Homeward, my lads!" cried the general, " huzza!"
Roll went the drum, and the fife played cheerly.
To quick-time we footed, and sung all the way,
" Hey, for the pretty girls we all love dearly!"
My father lived with jolly boys, in bustle, jars, and strife,
And, like him, being fond of noise I mean to take a wife.
Soon Miss blushes y — i — s
Rings, gloves, dears, loves,
Bells ringing, comrades singing,
Honeymoon, finished soon!
Scolding, sighing, children crying!
Yet still a scolding wife may prove, if taken smooth and rough,
A very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.
Roll went the drum, and the fife played sweetly;
" Here, master sergeant," said I, from the crowd,
" Is a lad who will answer your purpose completely."
My father was a corporal, and well he knew his trade;
Of women, wine, and gunpowder he never was afraid,
He'd march, fight, left, right!
Front flank! centre rank!
Storm the trenches, court the wenches,
Loved the rattle of a battle,
Died in glory, lives in story!
And, like him, I found a soldier's life, if taken smooth and rough,
A very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.
" Hold up your head," cried the sergeant at drill,
Roll went the drum, and the fife played loudly.
" Turn out your toes, sir!" Says I, " Sir, I will;"
For a nimble-wristed round rattan the sergeant flourished proudly.
My father died when corporal, but I ne'er turned my back,
Till promoted to a halbert, I was sergeant in a crack.
In sword and sash cut a dash;
Spurr'd and booted, next recruited,
Hob and Clod, awkward squad,
Then began my rattan!
When boys unwilling came to drilling.
Till made the colonel's orderly, then who but I, so bluff,
Led a very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.
" Homeward, my lads!" cried the general, " huzza!"
Roll went the drum, and the fife played cheerly.
To quick-time we footed, and sung all the way,
" Hey, for the pretty girls we all love dearly!"
My father lived with jolly boys, in bustle, jars, and strife,
And, like him, being fond of noise I mean to take a wife.
Soon Miss blushes y — i — s
Rings, gloves, dears, loves,
Bells ringing, comrades singing,
Honeymoon, finished soon!
Scolding, sighing, children crying!
Yet still a scolding wife may prove, if taken smooth and rough,
A very merry, hey-down derry, sort of life enough.