A Pathetic Ballad.

Ben Battle was a soldier bold,

And used to war’s alarms;

But a cannon-ball took off his legs,

So he laid down his arms!

Now as they bore him off the field,

Said he, “Let others shoot,

For here I leave my second leg,

And the Forty-second Foot!”

The army-surgeons made him limbs:

Said he — “They’re only pegs:

But there’s as wooden members quite,

As represent my legs!”

Now Ben he loved a pretty maid,

Her name was Nelly Gray;

So he went to pay her his devours,

When he’d devour’d his pay!

But when he called on Nelly Gray,

She made him quite a scoff;

And when she saw his wooden legs,

Began to take them off!

“O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray!

Is this your love so warm?

The love that loves a scarlet coat

Should be more uniform!”

Said she, “I loved a soldier once,

For he was blithe and brave;

But I will never have a man

With both legs in the grave!”

“Before you had those timber toes,

Your love I did allow,

But then, you know, you stand upon

Another footing now!”

“O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray!

For all your jeering speeches,

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