In quick march time and with spirit.
Oh there's not a thrade that's going;
Worth showing, Or knowing,
Like that from glory growing,
For a bowld sojer boy!
Where right or left we go,
Sure you know, Friend or foe,
Will have the hand or toe
From the bowld sojer boy,
There's not a town we march thro',
But ladies looking arch thro'
The window panes will sarch
Thro' the ranks to find their joy,
While up the street
Each girl you meet
With look so sly
Will cry "My eye! Oh isn't he a darling the bowld sojer boy!"
But when we get the route
How they pout and they shout,
While to the right about
Goes the bowld sojer boy.
'Tis then that ladies fair
In despair tear their hair
But the Div'l a one I care
Says the bowld sojer boy
For the world is all before us,
Where the land ladies adore us,
And ne'er refuse to score us.
But chalk us up with joy,
We taste her tap, we tear her cap,
"Oh that's the cap For me" Says she
"Oh isn't he a darling the bowld sojer boy!"
Lover, Samuel, "Bowl'd Sojer Boy" (1847). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 682.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.