20
When she was gnoe good lack!
My hair like hogs hair bristled,
I thought she‘d ne‘er come back,
So went to work and whistled;
Then let her go, I‘ve got my stall,
Which my no robber rifle;
'Twould break my heart to lose my awl,
To lose my wife's a trifle.
A Soldiers gratitude.
Whate'er my fate, wheree'er I roam,
By sorrow still opprest,
I‘ll ne'er forget the peaceful hmoe,
That gave a wand'rer rest.
Then ever rove life's sunny banks,
By sweetest flow'rets strew'd,
Still may you claim a soldier's thanks,
A soldiers gratitude.
The tender sigh, the balmy tear,
That meek eyed Pity gave,
My last expiring hour shall cheer,
And bless the wand'rer's grave.
Then ever rove life's sunny banks,
By sweetest flow'rets strew'd,
Still may you claim a soldier‘s thanks,
A soldier's gratitude.
