Sung by Mr Darley at Vauxhall Gardens. Published c. 1793.

Lyrics: Anon

We soldiers drink, we soldiers sing,
We fight our foes and love our king,
Are ever brisk and jolly.
We know no care in peace or war,
We ask no wealth but fame or health,
A knapsack and a dolly.

When mirth invites we seldom think,
When honour calls we never shrink;
But scorning melancholy,
Alert and gay, we march away
To foreign parts with cheerful hearts,
A knapsack and a dolly.

If doomed to fall the good and brave
Will dew with tears their soldier's grave;
Thus sadness is a folly.
His dauntless sword will fame record;
His comrade dear will prize and cheer
His knapsack and his dolly.

Then come, my noble heroes come,
With sprightly fife and echoing drum,
With minds elate and jolly.
Let's take the field, nor ever yield
To Fortune's frowns, 'til conquest crowns
Our knapsack and our dolly.