A Parody
Written on hearing a Report that the Newcastle and Northumberland Yeomanry Cavalry were to be disbanded.

Tune- The Soldiers Tear.

Upon Newcastle Moor,
Poor Matthew cast a look,
When he thought on the coming hour,
When his brave Noodle Troop
Would lay their arms down,
No longer them to bear--
The brave defedners of the town--
He wip'd away a tear.

Beside gthe fatal spot,
Wherepoor Jane did end her strife,
He said that he would cut his throat,
And end his wretched life--
A life so 'press'd with care,
No longer cold he bear--
So wildly then he tore his hair,
And wip'd away a tear.

He turn'd and left the ground,
Where oft his red, red plume,
Had spread its warlike beauty round,
To the sound of fife and drum;--
But now his glory's fled--
No longer it he'll wear,
But take it quietly from his head,
And wipe away a tear.

No more the Tory ranks
Will glitter in the sun--
Nor play at e'en their childish pranks,
With blunderbbuss or gun;
For now the doleful knell
Has toll'd their last career,
And, horror-struck, poor Matty Bell,
Who wip'd away a tear.

Wm Greig -In: The Newcastle Song Book or Tyne-Side Songster., W&T Fordyce
Newcastle Upon Tyne.