My soldier boy has crossed the sea
To fight the foeman;
But he’ll come back to make of me
And honest woman.
So I am singing all day long,
For though I know he’s done me wrong,
We’ll end by wedding.
My soldier boy is home again,
So bold and scathless;
But oh, my heart is numb with pain
Because he’s faithless.
He’s brought with him a French Mam’selle;
They plan a marriage;
Maybe I’ll go – no one will know
Of my miscarriage.
My soldier boy has made his choice,
She’ll hold him to it;
I tell myself that I rejoice,
May he not rue it.
But oh, that starry month of May,
Love-words wild spoken!
I stand alone and make no moan. . .
My heart is broken.