18
CHRISTMAS COMES AGAIN
We 'll clink and drink on Christmas Eve,
Our ghosts can feel no wrong;
They revelled ere they took their leave—
Hearken, my Soldier's Song:
Our ghosts can feel no wrong;
They revelled ere they took their leave—
Hearken, my Soldier's Song:
"The morning air doth coldly pass,
Comrades, to the saddle spring;
The night more bitter cold will bring
Ere dying—ere dying.
Sweetheart, come, the parting glass;
Glass and sabre, clash, clash, clash,
Ere dying—ere dying.
Stirrup-cup and stirrup-kiss—
Do you hope the foe we 'll miss,
Sweetheart, for this loving kiss,
Ere dying—ere dying?"
Comrades, to the saddle spring;
The night more bitter cold will bring
Ere dying—ere dying.
Sweetheart, come, the parting glass;
Glass and sabre, clash, clash, clash,
Ere dying—ere dying.
Stirrup-cup and stirrup-kiss—
Do you hope the foe we 'll miss,
Sweetheart, for this loving kiss,
Ere dying—ere dying?"
The feasts and revels of the year
Do ghosts remember long?
Do ghosts remember long?
