THE SOLDIER'S WIFE
Poor little Nell, You've sure played
hell,
You've plighted your troth to a
soldier,
You'll live to regret it and
don't forget it,
Just wait and see what I've told
you.
From pillar to post, from coast
to coast,
And away to the Isles of the
sea,
You'll have no home, but are
doomed to roam,
At the whim of the powers that
be.
A few wild flowers you'll pluck
from the bowers,
That grow by the side of the
road,
But a Very small measure of joy
and pleasure,
You will find to lighten your
load.
You'll live in a shack with rags
on your back,
And eat your meals from a tin,
You'll bunk on decks, eat roast
for your sex,
And take pot-luck with the men.
It's a miserable life for the
soldier's wife,
And you'll soon get tired of the
game,
The wise one said with a wag of
the head,
But she married him just the
same.
Yes, she gave her hand to the
soldier man,
And she made a house of his
shack,
She shortened each mile with her
cheerful smile,
And she helped him to carry his
pack.
And she buckled his sword, as
she whispered the word,
That gave him the will to win,
And she sang all the day, when
he was away,
And smiled when he came home
again.
She's a regular sport of the old
army sort,
And gets a great joy out of
life,
For she knows how to give, as
well as to live,
Like a sure enough soldier's
wife.
Oh, no one denies that the wise
one was wise,
And all that he said was true,
But brave little Nell is a
soldier as well,
And the mother of soldiers too