A.E. Housman (1859–1936)

The Queen she sent to look for me,

        The sergeant he did say,

„Young man, a soldier will you be

        For thirteen pence a day?”

For thirteen pence a day did I

        Take off the things I wore,

And I have marched to where I lie,

        And I shall march no more.

My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet,

        My blood runs all away,

So now I shall not die in debt

        For thirteen pence a day.

To-morrow after new young men

        The sergeant he must see,

For things will all be over then

        Between the Queen and me.

And I shall have to bate my price,

        For in the grave, they say,

Is neither knowledge nor device

        Nor thirteen pence a day.