Broadside ballad entitled 'The Liggar Lady' and 'Arthur's Seat'

Transcription

THE LIGGAR LADY,
OR, THE LADIES LOVE TO A SOLDIER.

To the Tune, of Mount the Baggage, &c.

I Will away, and I will not tarry,
I will away with a Sojor Laddy;
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,
I will away with a Sojor Laddy;

I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,
Come well, come woe, I'le be a Sojors Lady.

In Camps, or Duels, Fights I will be ready,
On behind, and be his Liggar Lady ;
In cold Nights I'le lay me down beside him,
And I'le make my Petticoat a Tent to hide him,
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,
Come well, come woe, I'le be a Sojors Lady.

In England, France, Germany and Holland,
In Flanders, Spain, Italy and Polland;
Ther's nothing stay me, Bloody Wars, or Fighting,
I will away with him whom I delight in;
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,
Come well, come woe, I'le be a Sojors Lady.

In the mid'st of Battles, where the Guns do blatter,
The Cannons roar, and the Swords do clatter;
I will not fear, nor shall, my Courage fail me,
Though Horse and Foot, and dead men lie before me:
I'le mount my Baggage and make It ready,      
Come well,come woe I'le be a Sojors Lady:

When our camps are set, and in the Fields are Trenched
I'le wait on him, and see his Wounds be Paunced:
lf Linnens lack, I in my smoak will wrap him,
And I'le make my Pitticoat a Quilt to hap him;
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,               
Come well, come woe, I'le be a Sojors Lady.

In Mens Attire I'le dress myself in order,
With a Baver Hat well Lao'd about the Border?
A Scarlet Coat, and Vest laid o're with Laces,   
Sure I Shall be a Honour to all Lasses;
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,               
Come well, Come woe I'le be a Sojors Lady.

With a Scarlet Coat, and a Cap and Feather.   
My Shield and Buckler, Musket on my shoulder;
My Bandiliers, and Knap sack as a Cadie,
I will away with a Sojor Laddy;
I'le mount my Baggage and make it ready,
I will away with a Sojor'Laddy.

Sure if we die, we shall die in Honour,               
Fighting for Love under our Princes Banner;
In heart in hand, well through the World together,
Till Death us part there's nothing shall us sunder,
I'le mount my Baggage, and make it ready
In spite of Fate I'le be a Sojors' Lady.                        

FINIS                     

Arthur's-Seat Shall be my Bed, &c.
OR, Love in Despair

A New Song much in Request,
Sung with its own proper Tune.

Come lay me soft, and draw me near,
and lay thy white hand over me,
For I am starving in the cold,
and thou art bound to cover me;

O! cover me in my Distress,
and help me in my, Miserie,
For I do wake when I should sleep,
all for the love of my Dearie.

My Rents they are but very small
for to maintain my Love withall
But with my Labour and my Pain,
I will maintain my Love with them

O Arthur's Seat shall be my Bed,
and the Sheets shall never be fil'd for me
St. Anthony's well shall be my Drink,
Since my, true Love's forsaken me.

Should I be bound that may go free?
should I Love them that Loves not me?
I'le rather travel into Spain,
where I'le get love for love again;

And I'le cast off my Robs of Black;
and will put on the Robs of Blue?
And I will to some other Land,
till I see my Love will on me rue.

It's not the Cold that makes me cry,
nor is't the Weet that wearies me:
Nor is't the Frost that freezes fell:
but I love a Lad, and I dare not tell.

O Faith is gone, and Truth is past:
and my true Love's forsaken me,
If all be true that I hear say,
I'le mourn until the day I die.

Oh! if I had ne're been born,
than to have dy'd when I was young.
Then I had never wet my Cheeks,
for the Love of any Womans Son.

Oh, oh! if my young Babe were born,
and set upon the Nurses Knee,
And I my self were dead and gone,
for a Maid again I'le never be.

Martinmass wind when wilt thou blow,
and blow the green leafs of the Tree,
O! gentle Death when wilt thou come,
for of my Life I am wearie.
FINIS.

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