Arthur McBride
Anonymous
| Original | La versione contenuta nelle "Songs of Northeast" di Gavin Greig,... |
| ARTHUR MCBRIDE I once knew a fellow called Arthur McBride And his pleasure was walking down by the seaside A-walking, a-talking, a-viewing the tide If the weather was pleasant and charming So gay and so gallant we went on a tramp We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp And the bonnie little drummer who roused up the camp With his rowdedowdow in the morning What ho, my good fellows, the sergeant did cry The same to you, sergeant, we made to reply There was nothing more said and we made to pass by All on that bright summer's morning What ho, my good fellows, if you would enlist Ten guineas in gold I would slap in your fist And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust And to drink the King's health in the morning Oh no my good sergeant, we are not for sale Though we're fond of our country your bribes won't avail Though we're fond of our country we care not to sail For we are the boys of the morning If you would insult me without any word I swear by my king I would draw my broad sword And I'd run through your body as strength me afford Ere you could breathe out the morning We laid the little drummer as flat as a shoe We made a football of his rowdedowdoo The sergeant, the corporal, we knocked out the two For we were the boys of the morning And as for the weapons that hung by their side We flung them as far as we could in the tide And the devil go with you, says Arthur McBride For spoiling our walk in the morning. | ARTHUR McBRIDE I once had a comrade named Arthur McBride as we were a-walking along the seaside As we were a-walking to bathe in the tide It was on a fine summer's morning As we were awalking along the sea sand We met Sergeant Napier and Corporal O'Hand And a little wee drummer called Patrick McDan They were going to the fair in the morning O Arthur, my lad, if you would but list Five guineas in gold I would clap in your fist Besides five shilling to kick up the dust And drink the king's health in the morning Na faith, says Arthur, I ken it mysel' I winna gae wi you to rin at your tail I winna gae wi you to rin at your tail And be at your command in the morning O, if you go with us, I'm sure you'll go clean We're not like poor fellows goes dirty and mean We're not like poor fellows goes dirty and mean Gets nothing but gruel in the morning Ye needna be chattin' aboot your fine pay As you go a-marchin' and trampin' away For all that ye hae is a shilling a day To get you some chat in the morning Ye needna be chattin' aboot your fine clothes Ye've only the len o them as I suppose Ye daurna sell them in spite o your nose Or you will get flogged in the morning I'm blessed said the sergeant, if I'll take more of that From you or from any young cow-feeding brat And if you tip me any more of your chat I will run you thru in the morning But before they time to draw out their blades Our whacking shillelaghs came over their heads We soon let them see that we were their blades That could temper their pows in the morning As for the wee drummer we tempered his pow And made a football o his row-didi-dow And kicket it in to the ocean to row And take a bit bathe in the morning And as for the weapons that hung by their sides We took them and pitched them far out in the tide May the deil gae wi them, said Arthur McBride If ever we see them returning. |
