By Calder's clear valley, by Calder's clear stream,
Where I and my Annie together were seen.
Days they past swiftly and happy were we,
It is little, she thought, that a soldier I'd be.
On the 20th of August our regiment was lost
When a shot from the enemy our line came across;
Struck me on the forehead, the blood it ran down,
I reeled and I staggered, I fell to the ground.
"Oh come here," cries the captain, "come here with good speed,
For I fear by a bullet young Dinsmore is dead."
They poured me the water and the whisky so free,
And they turned me all over by brute for to see.
If my Annie she were here, she would bind up my wounds,
One kiss from her sweet mouth would staunch all the stouns(?)
But if fortune smile on me and back I return
I will sport with you, Annie, by Calder's clear dam.
For it's wet and I am weary and I think of lang syne,
When I was a young man and I worked down the mine.
Tears they do trickle and down they do fall,
Like the dew on the daisies in bonny Woodhall.
