They sewed his body up, all in an old cow's hide, And they cast the gallant cabin-boy, over the ship's side, And left him without more ado adrifting with the tide, And to sink by the Low-lands low. [Footnote 20: May be omitted in singing.] [Footnote 21: May be omitted in singing.] No. 65 THE BOLD DRAGOON H.F.S. [Music] 1 A bold dragoon from out of the North, To a lady's house came riding; With clank of steel, and spur at his heel, His consequence noways hiding. "Bring forth good cheer, tap claret and beer, For here I think of abiding, Abiding, Abiding. 2 "The chamber best with arras be dress'd I intend to be comfortable. Such troopers as we always make ourselves free, Heigh!--lead my horse to the stable! Give him corn and hay, but for me Tockay, We'll eat and drink whilst able, Able, aye! Able. 3 "The daintiest meat upon silver plate, And wine that sparkles and fizzes. Wax candles light, make the chamber bright, And--as soldiers love sweet Misses, My moustache I curl with an extra twirl, The better to give you kisses, Kisses, aye! Kisses." 4 "There's cake and wine," said the lady fine, "There's oats for the horse, and litter. There's silver plate, there are servants to wait, And drinks, sweet, sparkling, bitter. Tho, bacon and pease, aye! and mouldy cheese, For such as you were fitter, Fitter aye! Fitter. 5 "Your distance keep, I esteem you cheap Tho' your wishes I've granted, partly. But no kisses for me from a Chimpanzee," The lady responded tartly. "Why! a rude dragoon is a mere Baboon." And she boxed his ears full smartly, Smartly, aye! smartly. No. 66 TRINITY SUNDAY H.F.S. [Music] 1 When bites the frost and winds are a blowing, I do not heed, I do not care; If Johnny's by me, what if it be snowing. 'Tis summer time with me all the year. 2 The icicles they may hang on the fountain, And frozen over the farm yard pool. The bleak wind whistle across the mountain, No wintry blast our love can cool. 3 O what to me the wind and the weather? O what to me the wind and the rain? My Johnny loves me, and being together, Why let it bluster--it blows in vain. 4 I never tire, I never am weary, I drudge and think it is only play; As Johnny loves me, and I am his deary, Why--all the year it is holiday. 5 I shall be wed upon Trinity Sunday, And then adieu to my holiday. Come frost and frown the following Monday. Why then beginneth my workaday. 6 If drudge and smudge begins on the Monday, If scold and grumble--I do not care, My winter follow Trinity Sunday. I can't have summertime all the year. No. 67 THE BLUE FLAME C.J.S. [Music] 1