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O hark, the drums do beat, my love, we can no longer tarry |
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The bugle calls are sounding and we must march away |
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We're ordered down to Portsmouth town for many a weary mile |
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To join the British Army on the banks of the Nile |
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O Willie, dearest William, don't leave me here to mourn |
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For I must curse and rue the day that ever I was born |
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For parting from our love would be like parting from my life |
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So stay at home, dear William, and I will be your wife |
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O my Nancy, dearest Nancy, sure that would never do |
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The government has ordered and we are bound to go |
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The government has ordered, and the Queen, she gives command |
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And I am bound away, my love, to serve in a foreign land |
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Then I'll cut off my yellow hair and go along with you |
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I'll dress myself in uniform and I'll see Egypt too |
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I'll march beneath your banner while fortune it do smile |
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And we'll comfort one another on the banks of the Nile |
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My curse attend the cruel war and the hour that it began |
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For it has robbed our countrie of many a gallant man |
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They've robbed us of our sweethearts, protectors of the soil |
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Their blood does steep the grass that's deep on the banks of the Nile |
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And when the war is over, love, back home I'll then return |
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Until my wife and family I've left behind to mourn |
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We'll take up the plough, my boys, and till the fertile soil |
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No more we'll go a-roving on the banks of the Nile |
