The Militiaman.
The militia man to parade is gone,
In single file you’ll find him;
The Albert hat he was fain to don,
His blunt spade left behind him.
“Land of wheat,” said the warrior-clod,
“Tho’ Sir Robert now neglect thee,
One bayonet still upholds the sod,
One plough-boy will ‘protect’ thee.”
* * * * *