It's true my love's enlisted, and he wears the white cockade
He is a handsome young man, likewise a roving blade
He is a handsome young man, most right to serve the King
Oh my very, oh my very
Oh my very, oh my very
Heart is breaking all for the loss of him
As I walked out this morning, as I rambled over yon moss
I had no thought of 'listing, till a soldier did me cross
He kindly did invite me to take a flowing bowl
He advanced, he advanced
He advanced, he advanced
Me the money, two guineas and a crown
My love is tall and handsome and comely for to see
But by a sad misfortune a soldier now is he
May the man that first enlisted him not prosper night or day
How I wish that, how I wish that
How I wish that, how I wish that
He might perish all in the foaming spray
O may he never prosper and may he never thrive
In all he puts his hand upon as long as he's alive
May the very ground he treads upon the grass refuse to grow
Since he has been my, since he has been my
Since he has been my, since he has been my
Only cause of my sorrow, grief and woe
Then he's taken out his handkerchief to wipe the flowing eye
Wipe up, wipe up them flowing tears likewise those mournful sighs
And be you of good courage love till I return again
You and I love, you and I love
You and I love, you and I love
Will be married when I return again
More than 100 years old, this song was a favourite with the peasantry in every part of England, but especially in the mining districts of the north.