Rocking of the cradle, or, Hushy-ba baby/The affectionate soldier

THE AFFECTIONATE SOLDIER.

'TWAS on the ev'ning of a winter day,
⁠when safe returning from a long campaign,
Allen o'ertoil'd and weary with the way,
⁠came home to see his Sally once again.

His batter'd arms he carelessly threw down,
⁠and view'd his Sally with enraptur'd eyes;
But she receiv'd him with a modest frown,
⁠she knew not Allen in his rough disguise.

His hair was knotted, and his beard unshorn,
⁠his tatter'd 'coutraments about him hung,
A tear of pleasure did his cheeks adorn,
⁠and blessings in torrents from his tongue.

Am I so alter'd with this cruel trade,
⁠that you your faithful Allen have forgot;
Or has your heart unto some other stray'd,
⁠ah! why did I escape the murdering shot!

When thus he spoke, her wonted colour fled,
⁠she ran and sank upon her Allen’s breast,
All pale, a while she look'd like one that’s dead,
⁠she kist, she breath'd, and all her love confest.

Yes, my delight, though alter'd as thou art,
⁠reduc'd by honest courage to this stare,
Thou art the golden treasure of my heart,
⁠my long lost husband, and my wish'd for mate.