Fanning Manuscript, p24, Valiant Soldier ballad

The drums are beting now and to perfection come,
There is no music in this world compared with a drum
Tis o the lofty sound there of that soundeth in the are
There is no musick in this world can with the drum compare.

Tis for your Violeen that soundeth in the Room
A playing of a minuwit or of a ragadon
But what is that to our Revally at the dawning of the Day
That lovely warlike instrument that soldiers must obey.

It is for your squeaking fidlers and for your fifers to
They often times get into the Barn amongst the ragged crue
There often times kick’d out of Dores when gentlemen do come
There is nither King nor Emperor can march without a Drum.

And when we come to battle Boys or the besieging of a town
The Devil of a fiddler or a fifer to be found
The fiddle strings are Broke my Boys the fife it will not home
So loud like claps of thunder Boys so dareing goes the Drum.

So happy was the Day when soldiers come to town,
For they are men of honour Boys and Men of hy renown
Tis they go Drest in scarlet with their jack boots and their Belts
All mounted on a galliant steed with black cockades and felts.

There is one amongst the rest that is proper neat and tall,
Far as the Moon exceeds the stars he doth exceed them all
His cheaks are of a ruby Read his lips of lilly die
I’ll pawn my life, I’ll be his wife or ells for him I’ll dye.

O hold your tong dear daughter and don’t you talk so strange
For I would not for all the world with a Soldier you should range
Soldiers are Deceitful Besides you know their pay
Although they dres so neat and trim but sixteen pence a day.

O hold your tongue Dear mamy and don’t you run them Down
For they are not to be compared with every durty clown
It is for your dirty tradesmen with them I can’t abide
The tanner stinks so damnably of every dirty hide.

My love is a valliant soldier a valliant man is he
He is gone into the Wars my Boys to fight for liberty
And since I can’t go with him tis for him I will pray
That the Angels may surround my love and gard him Night and Day.

And when the war is over and we return Home
The pretty Girls will all rejoice to see the soldiers come
They will laugh to hear the Musick the beating of tatoo
So let them all say what they will my Dear I’ll follow you.