| |
| BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold, | |
| And used to war’s alarms, | |
| But a cannon-ball took off his legs, | |
| So he laid down his arms. | |
| |
| Now as they bore him off the field, | 5 |
| Said he, “Let others shoot; | |
| For here I leave my second leg, | |
| And the Forty-second Foot.” | |
| |
| The army surgeons made him limbs; | |
| Said he, “They’re only pegs; | 10 |
| But they’re as wooden members quite | |
| As represent my legs.” | |
| |
| Now Ben he loved a pretty maid, | |
| Her name was Nelly Gray; | |
| So he went to pay her his devours, | 15 |
| When he’d devoured his pay. | |
| |
| But when he called on Nelly Gray, | |
| She made him quite a scoff; | |
| And when she saw his wooden legs, | |
| Began to take them off. | 20 |
| |
| “Oh, Nelly Gray! Oh, Nelly Gray! | |
| Is this your love so warm? | |
| The love that loves a scarlet coat | |
| Should be more uniform.” | |
| |
| Said she, “I loved a soldier once, | 25 |
| For he was blithe and brave; | |
| But I will never have a man | |
| With both legs in the grave. | |
| |
| “Before you had those timber toes | |
| Your love I did allow, | 30 |
| But then, you know, you stand upon | |
| Another footing now.” | |
| |
| “Oh, Nelly Gray! Oh, Nelly Gray! | |
| For all your jeering speeches, | |
| At duty’s call I left my legs | 35 |
| In Badajoz’s breaches.” | |
| |
| “Why, then,” said she, “you’ve lost the feet | |
| Of legs in war’s alarms, | |
| And now you cannot wear the shoes | |
| Upon your feats of arms.” | 40 |
| |
| “Oh, false and fickle Nelly Gray! | |
| I know why you refuse— | |
| Though I’ve no feet, some other man | |
| Is standing in my shoes! | |
| |
| “I wish I ne’er had seen your face; | 45 |
| But now, a long farewell! | |
| For you will be my death; alas! | |
| You will not be my Nell.” | |
| |
| Now, when he went from Nelly Gray, | |
| His heart so heavy got, | 50 |
| And life was such a burthen grown, | |
| It made him take a knot. | |
| |
| So round his melancholy neck | |
| A rope he did entwine, | |
| And, for the second time in life, | 55 |
| Enlisted in the Line! | |
| |
| One end he tied around a beam, | |
| And then removed his pegs, | |
| And, as his legs were off, of course | |
| He soon was off his legs. | 60 |
| |
| And there he hung till he was dead | |
| As any nail in town; | |
| For though despair had cut him up, | |
| It could not cut him down. | |
| |
| A dozen men sat on his corpse, | 65 |
| To find out why he died; | |
| And they buried Ben in four cross-roads, | |
| With a stake in his inside. | |
| |
