Nancy of the Dale

My Nancy leaves the rural train, A camp's distress to prove; All other ills she can sustain, But living from her love: Yet, dearest, tho' your soldier's there, Will not your spirit fail, To mark the dangers you must share, Dear Nancy of the dale? Dear Nancy, &c.

Or should you, love, each danger scorn, Ah! how shall I secure Your health—'mid toils which you were born To sooth—but not endure: A thousand perils I must view, A thousand ills assail; Nor must I tremble e'en for you, Dear Nancy of the dale. Dear Nancy, &c.