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It fell out upon one Martinmas time |
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When snow lay on the border |
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There came a troop of soldiers here |
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To take up their winter quarters |
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And they road high and they rode north |
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And they rode o'er the border |
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And there they met with a nice, little girl |
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She was a farmer's daughter |
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Well, they made her swear a solemn oath |
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A salt tear in her eye |
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That she would come to the quarter gates |
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When no one would her spy |
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But she's gone to the barber's shop |
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And to the barber's shop went soon |
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She made them cut off her long, yellow hair |
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As short as any dragoon |
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And she's gone to the tailor's shop |
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And dressed in soldier's clothes |
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With two long pistols down by her side |
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A nice, little boy was she |
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And she's gone to the quarter gates |
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And loudly she does call |
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"There comes a troop of soldiers here |
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We must have lodgings all" |
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And the quartermaster, he comes down |
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He gives her half a crown |
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"Go find your lodgings in the town |
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Tonight there is no room" |
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So she moved closer to the gates |
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And louder she does call |
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"Room, room, you gentlemen |
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We must have lodgings all" |
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And the quartermaster, he comes down |
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He gives her eighteen pence |
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"Go find your lodgings in the town |
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Tonight here comes a wench" |
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So she took a pistol from her side |
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She blew it loud and shrill |
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"You're all very free with your eighteen pence |
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You're not for a girl at all" |
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And she took the garter from her knee |
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The ribbon from her hair |
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She tied them 'round the quarter gates |
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A token she'd been there |
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And when they found that it was her |
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They tried to have her taken |
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She slapped her spurs to her horse's side |
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She galloped home a maiden |