"March! March!"
Jump, jump! Captain and Subaltern,
Why my lads, do you not tighten your girdles?
Jump, jump! make a fair start of it;
There goes the Subaltern over the hurdles!
Comrades shall many a day tell of the horrid way—
(E'en the bare thought makes the life-blood to curdle)
How the poor Subaltern—as his luck took a turn—
Pitched on his head ere he reached the fifth hurdle.
Jump, jump, &c. &c.