Why Soldier Why?

How stands the glass around?
For shame ye take no care, my boys!
How stands the glass around?
Let wine and mirth abound.
The trumpet sounds.
The colors, they are flying boys
To fight, kill, or wound
May we still be found
Content with our hard fare, my boys,
On the cold, cold ground.
Why, soldiers, why,
Should we be melancholy boys?
Why, soldiers, why,
Whose business 'tis to die?
What sighing, fie!
Damn fear, drink on be jolly boys.
'Tis he, you, or I,
Cold, hot, wet, or dry
We're always bound to follow boys
And scorn to fly.
'Tis but in vain,
I mean not to upbraid, ye, boys,
'Tis but in vain,
For soldiers to complain.
Should next campaign,
Send us to Him that made us, boys,
We're free from pain,
But should we remain.
A bottle and kind land lady
Cures all again.