Page:Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads (1892).djvu/164

  So ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ your friends which are no more,
  If we ’adn’t lost some messmates we would ’elp you to deplore;
  But give an’ take’s the gospel, an’ we’ll call the bargain fair,
  For if you ’ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!

’E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
 An’, before we know, ’e’s ’ackin’ at our ’ead;
’E’s all ’ot sand an’ ginger when alive,
 An’ ’e’s generally shammin’ when ’e’s dead.
’E’s a daisy, ’e’s a ducky, ’e’s a lamb!
 ’E’s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
’E’s the on’y thing that doesn’t give a damn
 For a Regiment o’ British Infantree!
  So ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ’ome in the Soudan;
  You’re a pore benighted ’eathen but a first class fightin’ man;
  An’ ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your ’ayrick ’ead of ’air—
  You big black boundin’ beggar—for you broke a British square!