| As I was a-walking one midsummer’s morning
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| Down by the gay banks of a clear pearling stream
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| There I met a fair maid making sad lamentations
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| So I threw myself in ambush to hear her sad refrain
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| Through the woods she marched along, caused the valleys to ring-o
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| And the fine feathered songsters around her they flew
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| Saying, «The war it is now over and peace it is returned again
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| Yet my William’s not returning from the plains of Waterloo»
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| Oh, I stepped up to this fair maid and said, «My fond crature
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| Oh, dare I make nquire as to what’s your true love’s name?
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| For it’s I have been in battle where the cannons loud do rattle
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| And by your description I might have known the same»
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| «Willy Smith me true love’s name is, a hero of great fame
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| And he’s gone and he’s left me in sorrow, it’s true
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| Now no-one shall me enjoy but me own darling boy
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| And yet he’s not returning from the plains of Waterloo»
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| «If Willy Smith’s your true love’s name, then he’s a hero of great fame
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| He and I have fought in battle through many’s the long campaign
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| Through Italy and Russia, through Germany and Prussia
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| He was my loyal comrade through France and through Spain»
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| «Till at length by the French, oh then we were surrounded
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| And like heroes of old then we did them subdue
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| We fought for three days till at length we did defeat him
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| That bold Napoleon Boney on the plains of Waterloo»
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| «And on this sixteenth day of June, it is end of the battle
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| Leaving many’s the bold hero in sorrow to mourn
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| There the war drums they do beat and the cannons loud do rattle
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| It was by a French soldier your William was slain»
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| «And as I passed by oh to where he lay a-bleeding
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| I scarcely had time for to bid him adieu
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| With a faint, faltering voice these words he kept repeating:
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| Fare the well, me lovely Annie, you are far from Waterloo»
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| And when that this fair maid heard this sad acclamation
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| Her two rosy cheeks they turned pale into wan
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| And when that his young man saw her sad lamentation
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| He cried, «Me lovely Annie, oh I am your very one»
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| «And here is the ring that between us was broken
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| In the depth of all dangers, love, to remind me of you»
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| And when she saw the token, she fell into his arms, saying
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| «You're welcome, lovely William, from the plains of Waterloo» |