A soldier come from Georgia way,
Of ridin’ he was weary.
He tingled on the side-door ring
To hearken up his lady.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
She’s took him by the bridle line,
She’s led him to the stable.
“Here’s oats, here’s corn, here’s hay for your horse,
Let him eat what he is able.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
She’s took him by the lily-white hand,
She’s led him to the table.
“Here’s cakes and wine for you, my dear,
Come eat what you are able.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
She’s went to smooth his downy bed,
And she smoothed it like a lady,
And off she took her red, red dress,
Said, “Dearie, are you ready?”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Off come his bugle soldier’s coat,
Off come his boots of leather,
And quickly into bed he jumped,
And there they lay together.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
He held her high, he held her low,
For hours one, two. and three,
When the bugle blew, she did fear so much
Did sound forth cruelly.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
“When shall we meet and marry, dear,
If you cannot tarry?”
“When cockle-shells turn silver bells,
‘Tis then that we shall marry.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
