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Tho’ woods now are bonny, and mornings are clear,
While lav'rocks are ſinging,
And primroſes ſpringing;
Yet nane of them pleaſes my eye or my ear,
When thro' the wood, laddie, ye dinna appear.
That I am forſaken, ſome ſpare not to tell;
I'm ſaſhid wi’ their ſcorning,
Baith evening and merning,
Their jeering gaes aft to say heart wi’ a knell,
When thro' the wood, laddie, I wander myſell.
Then ſtay, my dear Sandy, nae langer away,
But quick as an arrow,
Haſte here to thy marrow,
Wha's living in langour, till that happy day, (play.
When thro’ the wood, laddie, we'll dance, ſing and
HOW HAPPY THE SOLDIER
HOW happy the ſoldier who lives on his pay,
Al {pends half a crown out of fixpence a day;
Per fears neither juſtices, warrants, or bums,
But pays all his debts with the roll of his drums;
With row de dow, row de dow, row de dow, dow;
And he pays all his debts with the roll of his drums.
He cares not a marvedy how the world goes;
His king finds him quarters, and money and clothes;
He laughs at all ſorrow whenever it comes,
And rattles away with the roll of his drums.
With a row de dow, &c.
The drum is his glory, his joy and delight,
It leads him to pleaſure as well as to fight ;
No girl, while ſhe hears it, tho’ ever ſo glum,
But packs up her tatters, and follows the drum.
With a row de dow, rovi de dow, row de dow,dow,
And he pays all his debts with the roll of his drums.
