March Away- David Sawyer (Wilts) 1916 Williams
[Published in the Wilts and Gloucestershire Standard, 22nd January, 1916, p 2, Part 15, No. 2. William's notes follow.
Sawyer's chorus
"March away, march away,
Trumpets sound and cymbals play.
March away, march away,
To the merry little fife and drum."
is from the chorus of "The Merry Little Soldier" (see The Universal Songster or Museum of Mirth (London, 1834 ("Digitized by Google")), Vol I, p. 109, "The Merry Little Soldier" ("I'm a merry little soldier") (1 text)).
The newspaper print adds the "Twenty Eighteen" chorus at the end, also this verse is handwritten:
First come buttercups, then come daisies,
First comes night, then comes day,
First comes my old love, then comes my true love,
So the time it will pass away.
R. Matteson 2017]
Williams, Alfred: Ms / WGS: 'Below are given two versions of an ancient and interesting song, obtained from points about twenty miles distant from each other. 'March away' is the best copy. This was given me by David Sawyer, who sang it at Ogbourne, and Bishopstone, Wiltshire.'
Williams, Alfred: FSUT: 'An ancient piece, existing in several versions. Copy of David Sawyer, who sang it at Ogbourne, and Bishopstone, Wiltshire.'
"March Away," sung by David Sawyer of Ogbourne St. Andrew in County Wiltshire. Collected by Alfred Williams.
Verse 1: Yonder sits a lovely creature,
Who she is I do not know;
I will court her for my pleasure,
Whether she answers 'Yea' or 'No'.
Chorus: March away, march away,
Trumpets sound and cymbals play,
March away, march away,
To the merry little fife and drum.
Verse 2: "Madam I am come to court you,
If so be you'll let me in."
"Oh yes," she said, "my handsome fellow;
But perhaps you may this way again."
Chorus
Verse 3: "Madam, I've got gold and silver,
Madam, I've got houses and land,
Madam, I've got words of pleasure,
And shall be at your command."
Chorus
Verse 4: "I don't value your gold and silver,
I don't value your house and land,
I don't value your words of pleasure,
If I could but gain a handsome man."
Chorus
Verse 5: "Madam do not dwell on beauty,
Beauty's a flower that grows in May,
Beauty's a flower that grows in summer,
Soon it will die and fade away."
Chorus
Verse 6: "Ripe is the apple that is soonest rotten,
Hot is the love that is soonest cold,
Young men's vows are soonest forgotten,
And so, pretty maid, don't speak so bold."
Chorus