The SOLDIER's FAREWELL

Rous'd by the drum, the signal to away, Ready to march, see Soldier WILL obey: Close to his side his much-lov'd MOLL appears, Her hair dishevel'd, red her eyes with tears: Her belly prominent, too plainly shews, Not vain her grief, not vain alas! her woes; With loving arms she clasp'd him to her breast, And thus her wishes, thus her fears express'd.