Ballads of Peace in War






THE BONNIE PRINCE O' SPRING

    The little green soldiers are here at last,
    With their waving blades and spears;
    And across the hills they are marching fast
    With the drill of a thousand years:
    And I wave afar, and I shout, Hurrah!
    Till I hear their echoing cheers.

    A bonnie prince is at their head,
    And his love the legions know:
    For he gives them rest where the twigs are red
    At the hedges cool in a row:
    And afoot are they soon to a birdlike tune
    On the northward march to go.

    Oh, I am leal to the marching men,
    To my bonnie Prince I'm true;
    For he tells me the way to his tented glen,
    And the secret password too:
    And he sets in my hair a blossom to wear,
    Like his own good horsemen do.

    Then I will follow on all the day
    Where the bonnie Prince has led,
    Till we drive the Winter foeman away
    And throne my Prince instead:
    And sing willaloo! With the birds, willaloo!
    For the Winter King is dead.

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