She took me away from my warlike lord, And gave me a silken suit, I thought no more of my master’s sword, When I play’d on my master’s lute. She seem’d to think me a boy above Her pages of low degree; Oh, had I but loved with a boyish love, It would have been better for me; Oh, had I, &c.
Then I’ll hide in my breast every selfish care; I’ll flush my pale cheeks with wine; When smiles awake the bridal pair I’ll hasten to give them mine; I’ll laugh and I’ll sing, though my heart may bleed, And I’ll walk in the festal train, And if I survive it I’ll mount my steed, And I’ll off to the wars again. And if I survive, &c.
But one golden tress of her hair I’ll twine In my helmet’s sable plume, And then on the field of Palestine, I’ll seek an early doom. And if by the Saracen’s hand I fall, ’Mid the noble and the brave, A tear from my lady love is all I ask for the warrior’s grave. A tear from, &c,
I’ll trace these gardens o’er and o’er, Meditate on each sweet flower, Thinking of each happy hour,-- Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.
Shool, Shool, Shool, agrah! Time can only ease my woe, Since the lad of my heart from me did go Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.
Some say my love is gone to France, There his fortune to advance, And if I find him it’s but a chance,-- Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier, Shool, Shool, &c.
I’ll sell my frock, I’ll sell my wheel, I’ll buy my love a sword of steel, So in the battle he may reel,-- Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. Shool, Shool, &c.
I wish I was on yonder hill, It’s there I’d sit and cry my fill, So every tear may turn a mill,-- Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. Shool, Shool, &c.
I’ll dye my dress, I’ll dye it red, All over the world I’ll beg my bread, So my parents may think me dead-- Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. Shool, Shool, &c.
Oh, kiss me quick and let me go, Don’t keep me here a waiting, For if by chance we should be caught, It would set the gals a talking. I vow, I quite in passion get, To see you act so silly, I think I’ll have to kiss you first, For I’m getting very chilly.
Oh, kiss me quick, and let me go, Don’t keep me here a waiting, For if by chance we should be caught, It would set the gals a talking.
She’s fond of kissing, that I know, So often as I meet her, She says, “Kiss me quick, and let me go, You’ll love me all the better.” At evening when the room was dark, And time was getting later, I thought I’d steal a kiss from her, And I kiss’d the Nigger Waiter. Oh, kiss me quick, &c.