| Citation |
RNYG.779.032
23 Jan 1779:33 (242)
New-York, January 20.
A MEDLEY FOR THE LIGHT INFANTRY.
By a Soldier.
Tune--Over the Hills and far away.
Soldier whilst the flowing bowl
Warms your heart and cheers your soul,
Let me to your mind recall
Scenes familiar to us all,
In the gloomy forest's shade
Where your weary limbs you've laid,
Or your parched mouth applied
To the cool refreshing tide
. . . [1 more verse of 8 lines]
Tune--By the gayly circling Glass.
Listen to that swelling noise!
'Tis the bugle's warlike voice,
Which, in accents loud and clear,
Warns us that the foe is near.
. . . [4 more lines]
Tune - Away in the Copse.
Behold with what ardor to action the press,
They dash into cover with glee;
Insulted Britannia they wish to redress,
And set sad America free;
. . . [12 more lines]
Tune--Hosier's Ghost.
Mark yon wretch submissive bending,
In whose features shame and grief
Mixt with terror seem contending---
That was late a Rebel Chief.
. . . [4 more lines of verse 1; 8 lines of verse 2]
Tune--Lumps of Pudding.
We've shown them full oft' of what stuff we are made,
As often unmerited mercy display'd;
But shou'd they resist, we'll not vengeance restrain,
But probe to the quick the approaching campaign;
Then hence with all thread-bare disputes for this night,
To laugh there's a season, as well as to fight;
And one at a time is enough by my soul,
And so brother soldier--about with the bowl.
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