And I shall wear it now no more, no more!
There came a day we took it to be washed,
I and my batman, after due debate.
A little cottage stood hard by the road
Whose one small window said, in manuscript,
"Wasching for soldiers and for officers,"
And there we left my shirt with anxious fears
And fond injunctions to the Belgian dame.
So it was washed. I marked it as I passed
Waving svelte arms beneath the kindly sun