Old Song

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.

Old soldiers never die;
They fade away!

Old soldiers never die;
They fade away!

As the yellow gold is tried in the fire, so is sincerity tested
in adversity.

As the yellow gold is tried in the fire, so is sincerity tested
in adversity.

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to read more

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old blue coat
All buttoned down before.

Over the hills and o'er the main,
To Flanders, Portugal and Spain,
Queen Anne commands and we'll read more

Over the hills and o'er the main,
To Flanders, Portugal and Spain,
Queen Anne commands and we'll obey,
Over the hills and far away.