The Worn Soldier
The Queensferry boatie rows light,
And light is the heart that it bears,
For it brings the poor soldier safe back to his home,
From many and long toilsome years.
How sweet are his green native hills,
That smile to the beams of the west!
But sweeter by far is the sunshine of hope,
That gladdens the soldier's griev'd breast.
I can well mark the tears of his joy,
As the wave-beaten pier he ascends,
For already, in fancy, he enters his home,
'Midst the greetings of tenderest friends.
But fled are his visions of bliss,
His transports but rose to deceive;
He found the dear cottage a tenantless waste,
His kindred all sunk in the grave.
Lend a sigh to the soldier's grief,
For now he is helpless and poor,
And, forc'd to solicit a slender relief,
As he wanders from door to door.
To him let your answers be mild,
And, O! to the suff'rer be kind!
For the look of indiff'rence, the frown of disdain,
Bear hard on a generous mind.
And light is the heart that it bears,
For it brings the poor soldier safe back to his home,
From many and long toilsome years.
How sweet are his green native hills,
That smile to the beams of the west!
But sweeter by far is the sunshine of hope,
That gladdens the soldier's griev'd breast.
I can well mark the tears of his joy,
As the wave-beaten pier he ascends,
For already, in fancy, he enters his home,
'Midst the greetings of tenderest friends.
But fled are his visions of bliss,
His transports but rose to deceive;
He found the dear cottage a tenantless waste,
His kindred all sunk in the grave.
Lend a sigh to the soldier's grief,
For now he is helpless and poor,
And, forc'd to solicit a slender relief,
As he wanders from door to door.
To him let your answers be mild,
And, O! to the suff'rer be kind!
For the look of indiff'rence, the frown of disdain,
Bear hard on a generous mind.
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