The Female Volunteer

Air.—The White Cockade.

In danger’s hour, when haughty foes
Our British standard dare oppose,
When our gallant lads are obliged to roam
Why should women idly stay at home?
I’m volunteer turn’d, and indeed what’s more
A smart drill’d sergeant of the corps;
And whenever old England’s claims require,
Can soon make ready, present, and fire!
I’m a merry little wag in a scarlet frock,
And my heart’s as stout as my musket stock,
The rat-tat-to I love to hear,
Like a merry little British Volunteer!

With Britain’s foes what can’t we do,
When sirs, you must own, we conquer you,
See us marshall’d out and the fight begun,
The word’s charge bayonet, away they run!
While we pink the cowards as they fly,
Till loudly all for quarter cry;
An as mercy’s the pride of the British throne,
The word’s ground arms! and the day’s our own!
I’m a, &c.

Their arms all grounded to our view,
To take up arms! is of course our due;
And having boldly gain’d the day,
‘Tis shoulder arms? and we march away!
Then soldier like, each jovial soul,
Crowds daily round the flowing bowl,
And toasts with voice and heart with three,
Britannia, Queen, and liberty!
I’m a, &c.

Pitts, Printer, Wholesale Toy and Marble Warehouse, 6, Great St. Andrews St., Seven Dials.

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BBO Roud Number: V1283