trad
Marina Russell sang it to Henry Hammond in 1907. Mick Hennessy wrote in 1972 “popular in the Napoleonic Wars and the Crimea, especially with the Connaught Rangers”
Down by the banks of sweet primroses, Me and my love making posies, There I hear the Colonel crying, “March, my lads, with colours flying,” ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Darling, farewell! We’re all for marching, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Hark! my boys, how drums are beating, March, my boys, there’s no retreating, Every lad with his hair well powdered, Every man with his firelock shouldered, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Darling, farewell! We’re all for marching, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! The Colonel cries out, “Boys, be ready, Every boy both firm and steady, Every lad both right and sober, Every man with gut and powder, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Darling, farewell! We’re all for marching, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! “Colonel dear, oh dear, don’t wrong me, Don’t you take my children from me. If you do I will torment thee, After death my ghost will haunt thee.” ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Darling, farewell! We’re all for marching, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell! Darling, farewell! We’re all for marching, ÿÿÿÿLove, farewell!