WHEN wild wars deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle peace returning,
Wi mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning;
I left the lines and tented field,
Where lang Id been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger.
A leal, light heart was in my breast,
My hand unstaind wi plunder;
And for fair Scotia hame again,
I cheery on did wander:
I thought upon the banks o Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon the witching smile
That caught my youthful fancy.
At length I reachd the bonie glen,
Where early life I sported;
I passd the mill and trysting thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted:
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mothers dwelling!
And turnd me round to hide the flood
That in my een was swelling.
Wi alterd voice, quoth I, Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorns blossom,
O! happy, happy may he be,
Thats dearest to thy bosom:
My purse is light, Ive far to gang,
And fain would be thy lodger;
Ive servd my king and country lang
Take pity on a sodger.
Sae wistfully she gazd on me,
And lovelier was than ever;
Quo she, A sodger ance I loed,
Forget him shall I never:
Our humble cot, and hamely fare,
Ye freely shall partake it;
That gallant badge-the dear cockade,
Yere welcome for the sake ot.
She gazdshe reddend like a rose
Syne pale like only lily;
She sank within my arms, and cried,
Art thou my ain dear Willie?
By him who made yon sun and sky!
By whom true loves regarded,
I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded.
The wars are oer, and Im come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho poor in gear, were rich in love,
And mair wese neer be parted.
Quo she, My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenishd fairly;
And come, my faithfu sodger lad,
Thourt welcome to it dearly!
For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodgers prize,
The sodgers wealth is honor:
The brave poor sodger neer despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember hes his countrys stay,
In day and hour of danger.