A SONG by GENERAL WOLF.
HOW stands the glass around,
For shame, ye take no care my boys,
How stands the glass around,
Let mirth and wine abound.
The trumpets found,
The colours they are flying boys,
To fight, kill or wound,
May we still be found,
Content with our hard fate my boys,
on the cold ground. Why, soldiers why,
Shou’d we be melancholy, boys,
Why, soldiers why,
Whole business ’tis to die!
What——Sighing, fie!
Hang fear, drink on be jolly boys,
‘Tis he, you or I!
Cold, hot, wet, dry,
We’re always bound to follow boys,
And scorn to fly.
Think of renown,
Before you go to fight my boys.
Think of renown
Likewise the British Crown;
That you may go down,
With honour to your grave my boys,
In the cold ground,
So never frown,
But take a glass, a smiling glass,
Of good liquor round.
Behold this sword of mine,
Which has flood many a cut my boys,
Behold this sword of mine,
It does like silver shine,
So boys don’t decline;
But boldly clear your ways my boys,
So let the armies join,
And break the en’my’s line.
But before you go to tight my boys,
Drink off your wine.
’Tis is but in vain,
I mean not to upbraid ye, boys,
’Tis is but in vain
For soldiers to complain,
Should next campaign,
Send us to him that made us, boys,
We’re tree from pain!
But if we remain.
A bottle and kind Landlady
Cures all again.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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