AN excellent soldier who's worthy the name Loves officers dashing and strict:
When good,he's content with escaping all blame,When naughty,he likes to be licked.
He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed,Or imprisoned for several days,And hates,for a duty correctly performed,To be slavered with sickening praise.
No officer sickened with praises his CORPSSo little as MAJOR LA GUERRE
No officer swore at his warriors more Than MAJOR MAKREDI PREPERE.
Their soldiers adored them,and every grade Delighted to hear their abuse;Though whenever these officers came on parade They shivered and shook in their shoes.
For,oh!if LA GUERRE could all praises withhold,Why,so could MAKREDI PREPERE,And,oh!if MAKREDI could bluster and scold,Why,so could the mighty LA GUERRE.
"No doubt we deserve it no mercy we crave Go on you're conferring a boon;
We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave,Than praised by a wretched poltroon!"
MAKREDI would say that in battle's fierce rage True happiness only was met:
Poor MAJOR MAKREDI,though fifty his age,Had never known happiness yet!
LA GUERRE would declare,"With the blood of a foe No tipple is worthy to clink."
Poor fellow!he hadn't,though sixty or so,Yet tasted his favourite drink!
They agreed at their mess they agreed in the glass They agreed in the choice of their "set,"
And they also agreed in adoring,alas!
The Vivandiere,pretty FILLETTE.
Agreement,you see,may be carried too far,And after agreeing all round For years in this soldierly "maid of the bar,"
A bone of contention they found!
It may seem improper to call such a pet By a metaphor,even a bone;