  BY J. SHIELD, OF NEWCASTLE. Tune—John Anderson my Jo. On account of the confined limits of the Parade Ground of the Loyal Newcastle Associated Corps of Volunteer Infantry, it was found necessary to lock the door during the time of drill, to prevent the crowd interfering with the evolutions of the corps.—This circumstance gave rise to the song. Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring, (’Twas but the other day,) Thus sung a melancholy wight His pity-moving lay:— How comes this alteration strange! What can the matter be, That the brave Association Lads Are under lock and key? Ah! lately, on a Sunday, To dine I hardly staid,— But from my beef and pudding ran, T’ attend the gay parade! Now I may stay and pick my bones, From anxious hurry free; For the brave Association Lads Are under lock and key! A dimpling smile still grac’d my cheek, Brave D——n when I saw; ’Twas worth a crown to hear him, too, Exclaiming ‘Kiver awa’!’ But thus to feast my eyes and ears No more my lot shall be; For the brave Association Lads Are under lock and key! To church now, when the bells are heard, With snail-like pace I creep; And there, in manner most devout, Compose myself to sleep! Thus cheerless pass the ling’ring hours, So lately fraught with glee, Ere the brave Association Lads Were under lock and key! For pity’s sake, then, Ridley! Thy turnkeys straight discharge, And let thy armed Patriots Again be drill’d at large: So shall my Sunday afternoons, In gazing, joyous flee, When the brave Association Lads Ar’n’t under lock, and key! Think—urg’d by curiosity, To climb the Spital walls, Should any of thy neighbours there, Sad, break their necks by falls. O would not such mischances dire Be justly charg’d on thee, Who keeps the Association Lads Thus under lock and key? Imagine not thy warriors brave, To glory who aspire, Whilst thus confin’d in Blackett’s field, Their station much admire! Ah! no; in Heaton cellars they Would rather chuse to be, Most jovial, carrying on the war, All under lock and key! Whilst War’s horrific clangours Resound throughout the land, Still may’st thou, gallant Ridley, Thy town’s-men brave command: And, oh! that with your martial toils Delighted I may be, Ope wide the door of Blackett’s field; Then break the lock and key! |
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