As we went a-walking down by the seaside 
 Now, mark what followed and what did betide  
 For it being on Christmas morning...  
 Out for recreation, we went on a tramp  
 And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp 
 And a little wee drummer, intending to camp  
 For the day being pleasant and charming. 
  
 "Good morning ! Good morning!" the sergeant did cry  
 "And the same to you gentlemen!" we did reply , 
 Intending no harm but meant to pass by 
 For it being on Christmas morning.  
 But says he, "My fine fellows if you will enlist,  
 It's ten guineas in gold I will slip in your fist 
 And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust  
 And drink the King's health in the morning.  
  
 For a soldier he leads a very fine life 
 And he always is blessed with a charming young wife  
 And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife  
 And always lives pleasant and charming...  
 And a soldier he always is decent and clean 
 In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen  
 While other poor fellows go dirty and mean  
 And sup on thin gruel in the morning." 
  
 "But", says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes 
 For you've only the lend of them as I suppose 
 And you dare not change them one night, for you know 
 If you do you'll be flogged in the morning. 
 And although that we are single and free  
 we take great delight in our own company  
 And we have no desire strange faces to see  
 Although that your offers are charming  
 And we have no desire to take your advance  
 All hazards and dangers we barter on chance 
 For you would have no scruples for to send us to France  
 Where we would get shot without warning"  
  
 "Oh now!", says the sergeant "I'll have no such chat 
 And I neither will take it from spalpeen or brat  
 For if you insult me with one other word 
 I'll cut off your heads in the morning" 
 And then Arthur and I we soon drew our hods  
 And we scarce gave them time for to draw their own blades 
 When a trusty shillelagh came over their heads 
 And bade them take that as fair warning 
  
 And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their side  
 We flung them as far as we could in the tide 
 "Now take them out, Divils!", cried Arthur McBride 
 "And temper their edge in the morning".  
 And the little wee drummer we flattened his pow 
 And we made a football of his rowdeydowdow  
 Threw it in the tide for to rock and to row 
 And bade it a tedious returning  
  
 And we having no money, paid them off in cracks  
 And we paid no respect to their two bloody backs  
 For we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks  
 And left them for dead in the morning. 
 And so to conclude and to finish disputes 
 We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits 
 For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts  
 And bid them look sharp in the morning.  
  
 Oh me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride 
 As we went a walkin' down by the seaside,  
 Now mark what followed and what did betide 
 For it being on Christmas morning