Soon will the sailor be home from the sea:
Victory beams on the banners of Right,
This is the time to be merry and bright;
Stilled is the riot of shot and of shard
And (what a boon to the heart of the bard!)
Now we may purchase unlimited lard.
Shout for the joy of it, waving your hats;
Where there are puttees will shortly be spats;
Never again will we form on the right,
Squad or platoon, for a sergeant's delight;