Poor Maudlin.
Can you to the battle march away,
and leave me here complaining:
I'm sure 'twill bak my heart to stay,
when you are gone campaining.
CHORUS.
Ah! no, ah! no, poor Maudlin
will never quit her rover,
Ah! по, ah! no, poor Maudlin
will go with you all the world over.
Cheer cheer my love, you shall not grieve,
a soldier true you'll find me,
I could not have the heart to leave
my little girl behind meAh! no, &c.]
Can you to the battle go,
o woman's fear a stranger,
No fears my breast shall ever know,
but when my dear's in danger.Ah! no &c.]
Then let the world jog as it will,
let all our friends forsake us,
We both shall be as happy still,
as love and war can make us.Ah! no, &c.