The Soldiers Return
the soldier's return
air—“the mill, mill, o.”
when wild war's 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 i'd been a lodger,
my humble knapsack a' my wealth,
a poor and honest sodger.
a leal, light heart was in my breast,
my hand unstain'd 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 reach'd the bonie glen,
where early life i sported;
i pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
where nancy aft i courted:
wha spied i but my ain dear maid,
down by her mother's dwelling!
and turn'd me round to hide the flood
that in my een was swelling.
wi' alter'd voice, h i, “sweet lass,
sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
o! happy, happy may he be,
that's dearest to thy bosom:
my purse is light, i've far to gang,
and fain would be thy lodger;
i've serv'd my king and country lang—
take pity on a sodger.”
sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,
and lovelier was than ever;
quo' she, “a sodger ance i lo'ed,
forget him shall i never:
our humble cot, and hamely fare,
ye freely shall partake it;
that gallant badge—the dear cockade,
ye're welcome for the sake o't.”
she gaz'd—she redden'd 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 love's regarded,
i am the man; and thus may still
true lovers be rewarded.
“the wars are o'er, and i'm come hame,
and find thee still true-hearted;
tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
and mair we'se ne'er be parted.”
quo' she, “my grandsire left me gowd,
a mailen plenish'd fairly;
and come, my faithfu' sodger lad,
thou'rt welcome to it dearly!”
for gold the merchant ploughs the main,
the farmer ploughs the manor;
but glory is the sodger's prize,
the sodgerpppp's wealth is honor:
the brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
nor count him as a stranger;
remember he's his country's stay,
in day and hour of danger.
air—“the mill, mill, o.”
when wild war's 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 i'd been a lodger,
my humble knapsack a' my wealth,
a poor and honest sodger.
a leal, light heart was in my breast,
my hand unstain'd 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 reach'd the bonie glen,
where early life i sported;
i pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
where nancy aft i courted:
wha spied i but my ain dear maid,
down by her mother's dwelling!
and turn'd me round to hide the flood
that in my een was swelling.
wi' alter'd voice, h i, “sweet lass,
sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
o! happy, happy may he be,
that's dearest to thy bosom:
my purse is light, i've far to gang,
and fain would be thy lodger;
i've serv'd my king and country lang—
take pity on a sodger.”
sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,
and lovelier was than ever;
quo' she, “a sodger ance i lo'ed,
forget him shall i never:
our humble cot, and hamely fare,
ye freely shall partake it;
that gallant badge—the dear cockade,
ye're welcome for the sake o't.”
she gaz'd—she redden'd 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 love's regarded,
i am the man; and thus may still
true lovers be rewarded.
“the wars are o'er, and i'm come hame,
and find thee still true-hearted;
tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
and mair we'se ne'er be parted.”
quo' she, “my grandsire left me gowd,
a mailen plenish'd fairly;
and come, my faithfu' sodger lad,
thou'rt welcome to it dearly!”
for gold the merchant ploughs the main,
the farmer ploughs the manor;
but glory is the sodger's prize,
the sodgerpppp's wealth is honor:
the brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
nor count him as a stranger;
remember he's his country's stay,
in day and hour of danger.