The Loyal Soldier

Now gentle spring and pleasing gales,
Give peace unto the nation,
The soldiers brave may tell their tales,
And bless their happy station;
Come thou darling treasure come,
Hark, hark ! the cannons rattle,
The sounding fife and beaating drum,
Proclaim the dismal battle.


Then oh ! relieve the soldier brave,
When war and troubles ended,
And all that do escape the grave,
Let them be well befriended,
The soldier goes where duty calls,
And fears no kind of danger,
Whilst round him flies the fatal bells,
His heart to fear?s a stranger,
And when he from his wife doth part,
His children found him prattle,
He clasps the babies in his arms,
And boldly goes to battle.

Until the sun with crimson red,
Towards the west retiring,
There lies whole heaps of dead,
While thousands are expiring
Next morn the trumpet sounds again,
Each man must take his station.
Fighting hard with might and main,
For to defend the nation.

Thus fighting heard with might and main
Till he is sorely wounded,
But still he scorns for to complain,
Tho? by his foes surrounded,
And when in prison oft times he calls,
With loyal heart so eager,
Mow down the Frenchmen one and all,
Great George our King for ever.

But if this should be their fate,
When peace has best the nation,
Who crave assistance at your gate,
Give them a kind reception,
Take them in and use them well,
And say you?re welcome strangers,
You cannot make too much of them,
For all their toil and danger.

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