قراءة كتاب Points of Humour, Part 1 (of 2)
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 5
class="stanza">Lal de daudle, &c.
II.
My prenticeship I past, where my leader breath'd his last,
When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram;
I served out my trade, when the gallant game was play'd,
And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum.
When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram;
I served out my trade, when the gallant game was play'd,
And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum.
III.
I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries,
And there I left for witness, an arm and a limb;
Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me,
I'll clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.
And there I left for witness, an arm and a limb;
Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me,
I'll clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.
IV.
And now tho' I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg,
And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my ——,
I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callet[7],
As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum.
And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my ——,
I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callet[7],
As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum.
V.
What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks,
Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home,
When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell,
I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of a drum.
Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home,
When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell,
I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of a drum.
RECITATIVO.
AIR.
Tune—Sodger Laddie.
I.
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.
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.
II.
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 was I with my sodger laddie.
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;
His leg was so tight and his cheek was so ruddy,
Transported was I with my sodger laddie.
III.
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 prov'd false to my sodger laddie.
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;
He ventur'd the soul, and I risked the body,
'Twas then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie.
IV.
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.
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.
V.
But the peace it reduc'd me to beg in despair,
Till I met my old boy at a Cunningham fair;
His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,
My heart it rejoic'd at my sodger laddie.
Till I met my old boy at a Cunningham fair;
His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,
My heart it rejoic'd at my sodger laddie.
VI.
And now I have lived—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.
Sing, Lal de dal, &c.
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.
Sing, Lal de dal, &c.
RECITATIVO.
Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk
Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie;
They mind't na wha the chorus teuk,
Between themsels they were sae busy.
At length wi' drink and courting dizzy,
He stoiter'd up an' made a face;
Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzy,
Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace.
Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie;
They mind't na wha the chorus teuk,
Between themsels they were sae busy.
At length wi' drink and courting dizzy,
He stoiter'd up an' made a face;
Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzy,
Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace.
AIR.
Tune—Auld Sir Simon.
Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou,
Sir Knave is a fool in a session;
He's there but a prentice, I trow,
But I am a fool by profession.
Sir Knave is a fool in a session;
He's there but a prentice, I trow,
But I am a fool by profession.
My Grannie she bought me a beuk,
An' I held awa to the school;
I fear I my talent misteuk,
But what will ye hae of a fool.
An' I held awa to the school;
I fear I my talent misteuk,
But what will ye hae of a fool.
For drink I would venture my neck;
A hizzie's the half of my craft;
But what could ye other expect
Of ane that's avowedly daft.
A hizzie's the half of my craft;
But what could ye other expect
Of ane that's avowedly daft.
I ance was ty'd up like a stirk,
For civilly swearing and quaffing;
I ance was abus'd i' the Kirk,
For towzing a lass i' my daffin.
For civilly swearing and quaffing;
I ance was abus'd i' the Kirk,
For towzing a lass i' my daffin.
Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport,
Let naebody name wi' a jeer;
There's ev'n, I'm tauld, i' the court,
A Tumbler ca'd the Premier.
Let naebody name wi' a jeer;
There's ev'n, I'm tauld, i' the court,
A Tumbler ca'd the Premier.
Observ'd ye yon reverend lad
Mak faces to tickle the mob;
He rails at our mountebank squad,
It's rivalship just i' the job.
Mak faces to tickle the mob;
He rails at our mountebank squad,
It's rivalship just i' the job.
And now my conclusion I'll tell,
For faith I'm confoundedly dry,
The chiel
For faith I'm confoundedly dry,
The chiel
