You ain't no "thin red" 'eroes, no, not yet,
But a patient, docile, plucky, "thin brown line."
May be useful in its way, my boy, you bet!
All good fighters may shake fists, you know—'ere's mine!
You're a daisy, you're a dasher, you're a dab!
I'll fight with you, or join you on a spree
Let the skulkers and the scuttlers stow their gab,
Tommy Atkins drinks your 'ealth with three times three!
So 'ere's to you, my fine Fellah! 'E who funked the 'ot Soudan,
And the furious Fuzzy-Wuzzies, grows a first-class fighting-man: