| It fell out upon one Martinmas time
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| When snow lay on the border
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| There came a troop of soldiers here
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| To take up their winter quarters
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| And they road high and they rode north
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| And they rode o’er the border
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| And there they met with a nice, little girl
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| She was a farmer’s daughter
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| Well, they made her swear a solemn oath
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| A salt tear in her eye
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| That she would come to the quarter gates
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| When no one would her spy
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| But she’s gone to the barber’s shop
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| And to the barber’s shop went soon
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| She made them cut off her long, yellow hair
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| As short as any dragoon
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| And she’s gone to the tailor’s shop
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| And dressed in soldier’s clothes
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| With two long pistols down by her side
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| A nice, little boy was she
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| And she’s gone to the quarter gates
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| And loudly she does call
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| «There comes a troop of soldiers here
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| We must have lodgings all»
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| And the quartermaster, he comes down
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| He gives her half a crown
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| «Go find your lodgings in the town
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| Tonight there is no room»
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| So she moved closer to the gates
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| And louder she does call
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| «Room, room, you gentlemen
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| We must have lodgings all»
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| And the quartermaster, he comes down
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| He gives her eighteen pence
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| «Go find your lodgings in the town
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| Tonight here comes a wench»
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| So she took a pistol from her side
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| She blew it loud and shrill
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| «You're all very free with your eighteen pence
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| You’re not for a girl at all»
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| And she took the garter from her knee
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| The ribbon from her hair
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| She tied them 'round the quarter gates
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| A token she’d been there
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| And when they found that it was her
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| They tried to have her taken
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| She slapped her spurs to her horse’s side
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| She galloped home a maiden |