Tune—“Sodger Laddie.”
I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when,
And still my delight is in proper young men;
Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,
No wonder I’m fond of a sodger laddie,
Sing, lal de lal, &c.
The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;
His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,
Transported I was with my sodger laddie.
But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch;
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church:
He ventur’d the soul, and I risked the body,
’Twas then I proved false to my sodger laddie.
Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,
The regiment at large for a husband I got;
From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,
I asked no more but a sodger laddie.
But the peace it reduc’d me to beg in despair,
Till I met old boy in a Cunningham fair,
His rags regimental, they flutter’d so gaudy,
My heart it rejoic’d at a sodger laddie.
And now I have liv’d—I know not how long,
And still I can join in a cup and a song;
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,
Here’s to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.