Page:Burns' celebrated songs.pdf/8

 8

The wars are o’er, and I’m come hame,

And find thee still true hearted ;

Tho’ poor in gear, we’re rich in love,

And mair, we’se ne’er be parted.

Quo’ she, my grandsire left me gowd,

A mailin’ plenish’d fairly;

Come then, my faithful Sodger lad,

Thou’rt welcome to it dearly !

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,

The farmer ploughs the manor ;

But glory is the Sodger’s prize,

The Sodger’s wealth is honour.

The brave poor Sodger ne’er despise,

Nor count him as a stranger ;

Remember he’s his country’s stay,

In day and hour of danger.

Yo Heave Ho.

My name, d’ye see's Tom Tough, I’ve seed a little sarvice

Where mighty billows roll, and loud tempests blow ;

I've sail’d with noble Howe, I’ve sail’d with gallant Jarvis

And in valiant Duncan’s fleet I’ve sung out yo heave ho.

But more if you’d be knowing, I was coxon to Boscawen,

And even with brave Hawke I’ve nobly fac'd the foe ;

Then push round the grog, so we’ve that and our prog,

We’ll laugh in care’s face, and sing out yo heave ho.

When from my love to part we first weighed anchor,

And she was sniv’ling see’d on the beach below,

I thought t’have coch’d my eye sneev’ling to, d’ye see to thank her.

But I brought my sorrows up with a yo heave bo.

For sailors tho’ they have their jokes, and love and feel like other folks.

Their duty to neglect must not come for to go;