The Loyal Soldier

This ballad appears in the collection Rump Tunes published in 1662.  In that publication no tune was specified.  I have found however that it may be sung very successfully to the melody Drive the Cold Winter Away.

The Loyal Soldier

To the tune of Drive the Cold Winter Away
When in the field of Mars we lye, amongst those Martial wights,
Who never daunted are to dye for King and Countries rights,
As on Belona's God I wait and her attendant be,
Yet being absent from my mate, I live in misery.
 
When lofty winds aloud do blow, it snoweth, hail or rain,
And Charon in his boat doth row, yet stedfast I'le remain,
And for my shelter in some barn creep, or under some hedge to lye,
Whilst such as do now strong Castles keep, knows no misery.
 
When down in straw we tumbling lye, with Morpheus charms asleep,
My heavy, sad and mournful eye in security so deep,
Then do I dream within my arms with thee I sporting lye,
Then do I dread, or fear no harms nor feel no misery.
 
When all my joys are thus compleat, the Cannons loud do play;
The Drums alarum strait do beat, trumpets sounds, horse away,
Awake I then, and nought can find but death attending me,
And all my joys are vansiht quite; this is my misery.
 
When hunger oftentimes I feel, and water cold do drink,
Yet from my Colours I'le not steal, nor from my KING will shrink:
No Traytor base shall make me yield, but for the Cause I'le be:
This is my love, pray Heaven to shield, and farewell misery.
 
Then to our Arms we straight do hie, and forthwith march away;
Few Townes or Cities we come nigh, good liquor us deny:
In Lethe deep, our woes we streep, our Loves forgotten be,
Amongst the Jovialists we sing hang up all misery.
 
Propitions Fate then be more kind, grim death lend me thy dart,
O Sun and Moon, and eke the Wind, great Jove take thou our part,
That of these Round-heads and these wars, an end that we may see,
And thy great name wee'l all applaude, and hang all misery.
 
When in the field of Mars we lye, amongst those Martial wights,
Who never daunted are to dye for King and Countries rights,
As on Belona's God I wait and her attendant be,
Yet being absent from my mate, I live in misery.
 
When lofty winds aloud do blow, it snoweth, hail or rain,
And Charon in his boat doth row, yet stedfast I'le remain,
And for my shelter in some barn creep, or under some hedge to lye,
Whilst such as do now strong Castles keep, knows no misery.
 
When down in straw we tumbling lye, with Morpheus charms asleep,
My heavy, sad and mournful eye in security so deep,
Then do I dream within my arms with thee I sporting lye,
Then do I dread, or fear no harms nor feel no misery.
 
When all my joys are thus compleat, the Cannons loud do play;
The Drums alarum strait do beat, trumpets sounds, horse away,
Awake I then, and nought can find but death attending me,
And all my joys are vansiht quite; this is my misery.
 
When hunger oftentimes I feel, and water cold do drink,
Yet from my Colours I'le not steal, nor from my KING will shrink:
No Traytor base shall make me yield, but for the Cause I'le be:
This is my love, pray Heaven to shield, and farewell misery.
 
Then to our Arms we straight do hie, and forthwith march away;
Few Townes or Cities we come nigh, good liquor us deny:
In Lethe deep, our woes we streep, our Loves forgotten be,
Amongst the Jovialists we sing hang up all misery.
 
Propitions Fate then be more kind, grim death lend me thy dart,
O Sun and Moon, and eke the Wind, great Jove take thou our part,
That of these Round-heads and these wars, an end that we may see,
And thy great name wee'l all applaude, and hang all misery.
 
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