From the Civil War diary of one Ephraim Shay. Notice the tune was already know/popular in the 1860's!

Ephraim Shay Diary 1861-1862

The Soldier's Complaint
By J.E. Richardson Co F Infantry
Tune
Hard Times

Come listen kind friends awhile to my song.
And I will unfold a tale of my wrongs.
Of labor's severe and likewise the…
Endured by the soldiers on old Muldrough Hill.

CHORUS: It's hard times on Muldrough Hill
It's hard times I say

We rise in the morning at five of the clock
And make our hard bed of the butts of cornstalks
Then down in the valley we all trudge amain
To wash off the filth that in camp we have gained

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Then when we have washed we climb up the Hill
And every man carries his legs at his will
But once at the summit our strength is all gone
And go fast or slow we are fain to sit down

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

We rest half an hour then our labor begins
And the first we commence at is working our chins
Or in terms more explicit that you'll understand
We partake of a breakfast the cream of the land

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

And now give redoubled attention awhile
And I'll dish up the breakfast in excellent style
So strengthen your courage and stomach also
For the sumptuous repast you're about to review

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

The first on the hill in age and in strength
Is a side of fat bacon full three feet in length
With a crust on the surface to keep in the oil
A plump inch in thickness of Kentucky soil

Then as to its age we are all in the dark
But suppose it was smoked in the flues of the Ark
And I think 'tis the case but don't recollect
Each man as he eats doffs his hat in respect

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

The next thing in order are crackers so hard
Cut out with a chisel in shape like a card
Punched full of small holes to make them more brittle
To crumb in the coffee that's stewed in the kettle

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

The kettle so rusty and dirty to match
Not fit to make slop for the very old scratch
But that which a digger or dog wouldn't eat
Is thought by the soldier a deuce of a treat

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

But kind friends, have patience; don't think I have done
The' I've dealt out the nations I've only begun
For when we've ate breakfast we trudge off to work
To stand upon guard or to dig in the dirt

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

On guard we must go every third day or less
Where all sorts of men are mixed up in a mess
And when off of our posts we endeavor to sleep
And get ourselves curled all up in a heap

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Just as we get into a comfortable snooze
Along comes the Sergeant and raises the deuce
And every poor fellow from yonder to here
He pulls them and shakes them and yells in their ear

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Hey man says the Sergeant what is your relief
First Second or Third? Ah! man are you deaf?
And when the man grumbles about his hard fare
The officers tell him this hard it is fair

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Full twenty-four hours we've expelled from the camps
To sit around the fire or lie down in the damp
And when we're released from our labor severe
We don't feel like stirring again in a year

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Yet when we get home in our tents at length
And lay ourselves down to recruit our lost strength
As we shut up our eyes and get ready to snow
Along comes the Corporal and peeps in the door

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

"Say boys I want four men to go for some water
Come! get up and go with me-hurrah don't loiter"
And then from our couches still rubbing our eyes
We have to fall out and fall in at our size

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

And when we get back and begin to feel good
Again comes the Corporal with "Hurrah for wood"
And we find the relief which has been our desire
Is like jumping from frying pan into the fire

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Although we’re worn out by hard work and no sleep
We're obliged when on guard awake to keep
For if the Grand Rounds comes round to our post
And catches us napping our honor is lost

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

For when he has gone his way on the rounds
As soon as he gets to the guards camping grounds
He sends out a Sergeant and two ugly mugs
And clap the poor Sentinel straight into the jug

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

There are two or three items I would not forget
And ere closing story I'll mention them yet
A likeness from life I'll endeavor to draw
Of evils arising from under the law

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

The first is the Suttler who keeps in his shop
A choice lot of dainties to mix with our slop
Cakes, candies and pies, nuts, sugars, and trees
Eggs, butter, and spices, with crackers and cheese

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

In short on his shelves as you run you may read
He keep for the boys everything they don't need
But for ought that is nee off all through humbly you pray
He replies we don't keep it because it don't pay

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Then to crown the whole matter our officers scold
Because we take tickets instead of the gold
The gold Uncle Sam keeps locked in his chest
And we can’t get a quarter by trying our best

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

And then there's another sublime institution
For testing the strength of a man’s constitution
I allude to the hospital over the way
Where sickness and death are supreme in their sway

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

If I were a servant instead of a soldier
I'd sift the whole matter before a day older
For there's one thing I've learned among nature's laws
‘Tis that every effect has a definite cause

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

And were I permitted an inference to draw
According to nature’s immutable law
I'd over full in view of the hospital walls
That the slops and Sutter have peopled its walls

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Were it not my kind friends that would tire your patience
I'd open its walls for you all to admire
But fearing already I've kept you too long
I'll not try you farther by lengthening my song

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

I'll say naught of the nursing or medical skill
Which the boys must receive with or without will
How long since the mansion's been graced by a boom
Nor of twenty poor fellows crammed into a room

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

And now my dear friends let me say in conclusion
That soldiering is a most fatal illusion
And if you'd be happy contented and rich
Just take my advice and keep out of the ditch

CHORUS: It's hard times &c

Written at Paducah Dec 16th/61 While I now write a number of boys are just outside my tent enjoying a cotillion. The music is excellent. About an hour ago all the camps within hearing were hurrahing with all their might just for fun. Sounded funny. Pleasant evening