7
Still again wad I venture this auld trunk o’ mine,
Could our generals but lead, or we fight like lang syne.
But garrison duty is a’ we can do,
Tho’ our arms are worn weak, yet our hearts are still true;
We fear’d neither danger by land or by sea,
For time’s turn’d coward, an ne you or me;
And tho’ at our fate we may sadly repine,
Youth winna return, nor the strength o’ lang syne.
When after our conquests, it joys me to mind,
How thy Jean caressed thee, and my Meg was kind,
They shar’d a’ our dangers, tho’ ever sae hard,
Nor car’d we for plunder, when sic our reward:
Ev’n now they’re resolved baith their hames to resign,
And to share the hard fates they were us’d to lang syne.
THE HEN-PECK’D HUSBAND.
Young men and wives I pray attend,
while I relate my ditty,
