William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
A New Song: the Kings Own Regulars, and Their Triumph over the IrregularsTo the tune of “An old Courtier of the Queen’s, and the Queen’s old Courtier,” which is a kind of recitativo, like the chanting of the prose psalms in cathedrals
S
I cannot refuse, when you so beg and pray;
So, I’ll sing you a song,—as a body may say,
’Tis of the king’s regulars, who ne’er ran away.
O the old soldiers of the king, and the king’s own regulars.
We marshall’d ourselves all in comely array;
Our hearts were all stout, and bid our legs stay,
But our feet were wrong-headed, and took us away.
O the old soldiers, &c.
And recover some credit by better behaviour;
We would not acknowledge feet had done us any favour,
So feet swore they would stand, but—legs ran, however.
O the old soldiers, &c.
We march and we wheel, and whatever you choose;
George would see how we fight, and we never refuse,
There we all fight with courage—you may see’t in the news.
O the old soldiers, &c.
We march’d in fine order, with cannon and bombs;
That great expedition cost infinite sums,
But a few irregulars cut us all into crumbs.
O the old soldiers, &c.
If they had stood open, as they ought, before our great guns, we should have beat ’em with ease;
They may fight with one another that way, if they please,
But it is not regular to stand, and fight with such rascals as these.
O the old soldiers, &c.
We show’d our vast skill in fortification;
The French fired three guns; of the fourth they had no occasion;
For we gave up those forts,—not through fear, but—mere persuasion.
O the old soldiers, &c.
Swearing to be revenged on the whole French nation;
But we soon turn’d tail without hesitation,
Because they fought behind trees,—which is not the regular fashion.
O the old soldiers, &c.
With a great regular army he went his way,
Against Louisburgh, to make it his prey,
But return’d—without seeing it,—for he did not feel bold that day.
O the old soldiers, &c.
Each grandsire, he had heard, a rebellion suppress’d:
He wish’d a rebellion, look’d round and saw none,
So resolved a rebellion to make—of his own.
O the old soldiers, &c.
And so he sent us over to take away their right;
But lest they should spoil our review-clothes, he cried braver and louder;
For God’s sake, brother kings, don’t sell the cowards—any powder!
O the old soldiers, &c.
How at Lexington we might the Yankees surprise;
We march’d and remarch’d, all surprised at being beat;
And so our wise general’s plan of surprise was complete.
O the old soldiers, &c.
But did you ever know a retreat perform’d with more vigour?
For we did it in two hours, which saved us from perdition;
’Twas not in going out, but in returning, consisted our expedition.
O the old soldiers, &c.
(For arms read legs, and it will be both truth and sense:)
“Lord Percy, (says he,) I must say something of him in civility,
And that is—I can never enough praise him for his great agility.”
O the old soldiers, &c.
Every fence has two sides; they made use of one, and we only forgot to use the other.
That we turn’d our backs and ran away so fast, don’t let that disgrace us;
’Twas only to make good what Sandwich said, that the Yankees could not face us.
O the old soldiers, &c.
We took care they shouldn’t, by scampering away apace.
That they had not much to brag of, is a very plain case;
For if they beat us in the fight, we beat them in the race.
O the old soldiers, &c.