Volume 5 — Ralph’s going to the Wars.
Reading edition
[Listen]
TO the Wars I must alass, Though I do not like the Game, For I hold him to be an Ass, That will lose his Life for Fame: For these Guns are such pestilent things, To pat a Pellet in ones Brow; Four vurlongs off ch’ve heard zome zay, Ch’ill kill a Man he knows not how. When the Bow, Bill, Zword and Dagger, Were us’d all in vighting; Ch’ve heard my Father swear and swagger, That it was but a Flea-biting: But these Guns, &c. Ise would vight with the best of our Parish, And play at Whisters with Mary; Cou’d thump the Vootball, yerk the Morrie, And box at Visticuffs with any: But these Guns, &c. Varewel Dick, Tom, Ralph and Hugh, My Maypoles make all heretofore; Varewel Doll, Kate, Zis and Zue, For I shall never zee you more: For these Guns are such pestilent things, To pat a Pellet in ones Brow; Four vurlongs off ch’ve heard zome zay, Ch’ill kill a Man he knows not how.