|
O hark, the drums do beat, my love, we can no longer tarry |
|
The bugle calls are sounding and we must march away |
|
We're ordered down to Portsmouth town for many a weary mile |
|
To join the British Army on the banks of the Nile |
|
|
|
O Willie, dearest William, don't leave me here to mourn |
|
For I must curse and rue the day that ever I was born |
|
For parting from our love would be like parting from my life |
|
So stay at home, dear William, and I will be your wife |
|
|
|
O my Nancy, dearest Nancy, sure that would never do |
|
The government has ordered and we are bound to go |
|
The government has ordered, and the Queen, she gives command |
|
And I am bound away, my love, to serve in a foreign land |
|
|
|
Then I'll cut off my yellow hair and go along with you |
|
I'll dress myself in uniform and I'll see Egypt too |
|
I'll march beneath your banner while fortune it do smile |
|
And we'll comfort one another on the banks of the Nile |
|
|
|
My curse attend the cruel war and the hour that it began |
|
For it has robbed our countrie of many a gallant man |
|
They've robbed us of our sweethearts, protectors of the soil |
|
Their blood does steep the grass that's deep on the banks of the Nile |
|
|
|
And when the war is over, love, back home I'll then return |
|
Until my wife and family I've left behind to mourn |
|
We'll take up the plough, my boys, and till the fertile soil |
|
No more we'll go a-roving on the banks of the Nile |