To the Battle March Away/Beautiful Nancy

For other versions of this work, see Beautiful Nancy.
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⟨BEAUTIFUL NANCY.⟩

'Twas down in a valley, by the side of a grove,By a clear chrystal fountain I faw my true love,The birds were singing, the lambs were at play,On a bank of sweet violets she carelesly lay.
When first I beheld her my heart was surpriz'dBy the boom of her cheeks, and her sparkling eyes,Young Cupid was cruel, he directed his dart,For the sake of my Nancy she wounded my heart.
Now here in this torment I still do remain,Like a thief that's sentenc'd I'm bound in love's chain,No peace night or day can my heart ever find.The thoughts of my Nancy so trouble my mind.
Bring me pen ink, and paper, all for to write,To my beautiful Nancy, my joy and delight.She's charming she's beautiful, she's pretty & fair,There's none in the country can with her compare.
Small birds on the branches are b'e with a mate.The dove is a mourning for my hapless fate;The lark with her fine notes moorning the air,Brings me no glad tidings from my dearest dear,

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