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236 THE FOLK-SONGS OF POITOU.
That every pretty maiden Should have a lover dear.
But mine has gone away,
A soldier's trade to learn In service at Bordeaux,
But he will soon return.
We go, my comrades brave, Let's bid our girls good-by,
Give them a parting kiss, And tell them not to cry.
With knapsack on the back,
We make a brave convoy. We march along the road
With gallant songs of joy.
At Bordeaux, when you come,
And other girls you see, You '11 make another choice,
And think no more of me.
When I am at Bordeaux,
Fond letters I will write, And give them to the clouds,
That pass with bosoms white.
There will be within them,
In letters deep and clear, That I will always be
Your lover true and dear.
But the circumstances are not always so cheerful nor the songs so gay. There is a tragedy, when, |
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