Sodger Laddie - Robert Burns

I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when,
An’ still my delight is in proper young men;
Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,
No wonder I’m fond of a sodger laddie.

The first of my loves was a swagg’rin’ blade,
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;
His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,
Transported I was with my sodger laddie.

But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church,
He ventur’d the soul, and I risk’d the body,
’Twas then I proved false to my sodger laddie.

Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,
The regiment at large for a husband I got;
From the gilded spontoon to the life I was ready,
I asked no more but a sodger laddie.

But the peace it reduc’d me to beg in despair,
Till I met my old boy at a Cunningham fair;
His rags regimental they flutter’d so gaudy,
My heart it rejoic’d at my sodger laddie.

An’ now I have liv’d—I know not how long,
An’ still I can join in a cup or a song;
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,
Here’s to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.

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Robert Burns (1759–1796) Scotland
Source: BBC - Robert Burns - Works