Bowld Sojer Boy

A. W. AUNER’S PRINTING OFFICE, N. E. COR. ELEVENTH & MARKET, PHILADA.

Bowld Sojer Boy

Oh, there’s not a trade 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 rout,
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 divil a one I care,
Says the bowld sojer boy.
For the world is all before us,
Where the landladies 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 chap for me,” says she,
“Oh. isn’t he a darling, the bowld sojer boy!”

Then come along with me,
Gramachree, and you’ll see.
How happy you will be,
With your bowld sojer boy.
Faith if you’re up to fun,
With me run, ‘twill be done,
In the snapping of a gun,
Says the bowld sojer boy.
And ‘tis then that without scandel
Myself would proudly dandle.
The little farthing candle,
Of our mutal love my joy
May his light shine, as bright as mine,
Till in the line he’ll blaze and raise
The glory of his corps, like a bowld sojerboy.

A. W. AUNER, SONG PUBLISHER, N. E. Cor. 11th, & MARKET, PHILADA. PA.

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