Ballad. In the Chelsea Pensioner
Brother soldiers why cast down?
Never, boys, be melancholy:
You say our lives are not our own,
But therefore should we not be jolly?
This poor tenement, at best,
Depends on fickle chance: mean while,
Drink, laugh, and sing; and, for the rest,
We'll boldly brave each rude campaign;
Secure, if we return again,
Our pretty landlady shall smile.
II.
Fortune his life and yours commands,
And this moment, should it please her
To require it at your hands,
You can but die, and so did Caesar.
Our span, though long, were little worth,
Did we not time with joy beguile:
Laugh then the while you stay on earth,
And boldly brave, &c.
III.
Life's a debt we all must pay,
'Tis so much pleasure, which we borrow,
Nor heed, if on a distant day
It is demanded, or to-morrow.
The bottle says we're tardy grown,
Do not the time and liquor spoil,
Laugh out the little life you own,
And boldly brave, &c.
Never, boys, be melancholy:
You say our lives are not our own,
But therefore should we not be jolly?
This poor tenement, at best,
Depends on fickle chance: mean while,
Drink, laugh, and sing; and, for the rest,
We'll boldly brave each rude campaign;
Secure, if we return again,
Our pretty landlady shall smile.
II.
Fortune his life and yours commands,
And this moment, should it please her
To require it at your hands,
You can but die, and so did Caesar.
Our span, though long, were little worth,
Did we not time with joy beguile:
Laugh then the while you stay on earth,
And boldly brave, &c.
III.
Life's a debt we all must pay,
'Tis so much pleasure, which we borrow,
Nor heed, if on a distant day
It is demanded, or to-morrow.
The bottle says we're tardy grown,
Do not the time and liquor spoil,
Laugh out the little life you own,
And boldly brave, &c.
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