X:59
T:Dying British Sergeant, The
S:Digital Tradition, dysarge
N:From Frank Warner
O:America
Z:dt:dysarge
M:4/4
L:1/8
Q:2/4=100
W:Come all you good people where'er you be
W:Who walk by the land or sail by the sea.
W:Come listen to the words of a dying man,
W:I think you will remember them.
W:
W:It was on December the eighteenth day
W:That out fleet set sail for Amerikay;
W:Our drums and trumpets loud did sound,
W:And then for Boston we were bound.
W:
W:And when to Boston we did come
W:We thought by the aid of our British guns
W:We could make those Yankees own our British king
W:And daily tribute to him bring.
W:
W:They said it was a garden place,
W:And that our armies could with ease
W:Tear down their walls, lay waste their land
W:In spite of all their boasted bands.
W:
W:We found a garden place indeed,
W:But in it grew many a bitter weed,
W:Which soon cut off our highest hopes
W:And slowly wound the British troops.
W:
W:For to our sad and sore surprise
W:We saw men like grasshoppers rise.
W:"Freedom or Death!" was all their cry,
W:Believe they did not fear to die.
W:
W:When I received my deathly wound,
W:I bade farewell to British ground
W:My wife and children will mourn for me
W:Whilst I lie cold in Amerikee.
K:F
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