The Marksman

Come all ye young fellows and marksmen also,
Give ear to this ditty concerning my woe,
Till you hear what befell me in the year ‘45 —
A lesson I learned, boys, I’ll mind while alive.

I’d been a young fellow, and stout, roving blade,
When I first fell in love with this charming young maid;
Her cheeks red as roses decked with morning dew,
And the colours she wore, boys, were Orange and Blue.

To this charming young creature I made myself known,
I asked her the way which led to her home;
She told me her index it came from above,
And the whole of her courtship was garnished with love.

For her loving brethren I then did inquire,
To find out her tribe ‘twas my chiefest desire;
She told me by five and by seven also,
But the two-and-a-half she would never let go.

To my great astonishment some curtain she drew,
They being entwined with the Purple and Blue;
Two cubits and a half long, likewise the same broad,
The pot that held manna, likewise Aaron’s rod.

She showed me a ladder by which I could go
All over the mountains and far beyond woe;
Some numbering seven steps, but the three would do me —
If you want to know the secret, go search and you’ll see.

To this lovely young creature I made a low bow,
I kissed her and caressed her, but I won’t tell you how;
She gave me a love-token, which I wear in my breast,
And that I’ll remember till I go to my rest.

So come all you young fellows, I wish you good cheer!
You can bring in your sweethearts and set them down here,
You can kiss them and court them and treat them quite free,
But see if yours tells you what my love told me.