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The trumpets sound,
To fight, kill or wound;
May we still be found,
On the cold ground.
Why, soldiers, why,
'Tis he, you, or I,
Cold, hot, wet, or dry,
And scorn to fly.
"Tis but in vain,
"Tis but in vain,
Should next campaign
We are free from pain;
But if we remain,
Cure all again.
THE SOLDIER'S ADIEU. Adieu, adieu, my only life,
My honor calls me from thee, Remember thou’rt a soldier's wife,
Those tears but ill become thee; What though by duty I am callid,
Where thundering cannon's rattle, Where valor's self might stand appallid, Where valor's self might stand appallid, When on the wings of thy dear love,
To Heaven above
The tender pray’r thou puttest up there,
To watch me in the battle.
As sword and buckler serving,
Because of thy preserving:
Let thundering cannon's rattle,
Assured when on the wings of love,
To Heav'n above, &c.
Some kindred god inspired thee,
Who wonder'd, and admired thee:
When on the wings of thy true love,
THE DRUM. COME, each gallant lad,
Who for pleasure quits care; To the drum, drum, drum, &c.
To the drum-head with spirit repair. Each recruiter takes his glass,
And each young soldier with his lass, While the drum beats tattoo, while, &c.
Retires the sweet night to pass.
Each night gaily lads
Thus we'll merrily waste, Till the drum, drum, drum, &c.
Til the drum tells us 'tis past. Picquet arms at dawn now shine,
And each drum ruffles down the line, Now the drums beat reveille, now, &c.
Saluting the day divine. But hark! yonder shouts
See the standard now alarms, Now the drum, drum, drum, &c.
Now the drum beats loudly to arms. Kill’d and wounded, how they lie!
Helter, skelter, see they fly, Now the drum beats retreat, now,
&c. We'll fire a feu-de-joie.
THE SOLDIER'S BRIDE. THE moon was beaming silver bright,
The eye no cloud could view; Her lover's step in silent night, Well pleas'a, the damsel knew,,
Beneath the tower, He murmur'd soft, “ Oh, nothing fearing,
With your own true Soldier fly, And his faithful heart be cheering;
List! dear, tis I; List! list, list, love; list! dear tis I; With thine own true Soldier fly." Then whisper'd Love, “Oh, maiden fair,
Ere morning sheds its ray,
In time of need,
That champs the rein, delay reproving,
Shall each peril bear thee by,
List! dear, 'tis I;
She's fled her home afar,
And bless the hour,
When 'neath the tow'r,
With thinə own true Soldier Ay,
List! dear, 'tis I;
THE KNIGHT ERRANT. It was Dunois, the young and brave, was bound for
Palestine, But first he made his orisons before St. Mary's shrine; “ And grant, Immortal Queen of Heaven," was still
the soldier's prayer, “ That I may prove the bravest knight, and love the
fairest fair." His oath of honor on the shrine he graved it with his
sword, And followed to the Holy Land the banner of his lord; Where faithful to his noble vow,
his war-cry fill'd the air,Be honor'd aye the bravest knight, belov'd the fairest fair,"
They owed the conquest to his arm, and then his liege
lord said, “ The heart that has for honor beat, by bliss must be
repaid; My daughter Isabel and thou shall be a wedded pair, For thou art bravest of the brave, she fairest of the
fair.” And then they bound the holy knot before St. Mary's
shrine, That makes a paradise on earth, if hearts and hands
combine; And every lord and lady bright that were in chapel
there, Cried, “ Honor'd be the bravest knight, belov'd the
THE MINSTREL BOY.
TUNE— The Moreen.'
In the ranks of death you'll find him,
And his wild harp slung behind him.
“ Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One faithful harp shall praise thee."
Could not bring his proud soul under;
For he tore its chords asunder;
Thou soul of love and bravery!
They shall never sound in slavery."