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1895
THERE’S a Legion that never was ’listed, | |
| That carries no colours or crest. | |
| But, split in a thousand detachments, | |
| Is breaking the road for the rest. | |
| Our fathers they left us their blessing— | 5 |
| They taught us, and groomed us, and crammed; | |
| But we’ve shaken the Clubs and the Messes | |
| To go and find out and be damned | |
| (Dear boys!), | |
| To go and get shot and be damned. | 10 |
| |
| So some of us chivvy the slaver, | |
| And some of us cherish the black, | |
| And some of us hunt on the Oil Coast, | |
| And some on the Wallaby track: | |
| And some of us drift to Sarawak, | 15 |
| And some of us drift up The Fly, | |
| And some share our tucker with tigers, | |
| And some with the gentle Masai, | |
| (Dear boys!), | |
| Take tea with the giddy Masai. | 20 |
| |
| We’ve painted The Islands vermilion, | |
| We’ve pearled on half-shares in the Bay, | |
| We’ve shouted on seven-ounce nuggets, | |
| We’ve starved on a Seedeeboy’s pay; | |
| We’ve laughed at the world as we found it,— | 25 |
| Its women and cities and men— | |
| From Sayyid Burgash in a tantrum | |
| To the smoke-reddened eyes of Loben, | |
| (Dear boys!), | |
| We’ve a little account with Loben. | 30 |
| |
| The ends of the Earth were our portion, | |
| The ocean at large was our share. | |
| There was never a skirmish to windward | |
| But the Leaderless Legion was there: | |
| Yes, somehow and somewhere and always | 35 |
| We were first when the trouble began, | |
| From a lottery-row in Manila, | |
| To an I.D.B. race on the Pan | |
| (Dear boys!), | |
| With the Mounted Police on the Pan. | 40 |
| |
| We preach in advance of the Army, | |
| We skirmish ahead of the Church, | |
| With never a gunboat to help us | |
| When we’re scuppered and left in the lurch. | |
| But we know as the cartridges finish, | 45 |
| And we’re filed on our last little shelves, | |
| That the Legion that never was ’listed | |
| Will send us as good as ourselves | |
| (Good men!), | |
| Five hundred as good as ourselves! | 50 |
| |
| Then a health (we must drink it in whispers), | |
| To our wholly unauthorized horde— | |
| To the line of our dusty foreloopers, | |
| The Gentlemen Rovers abroad— | |
| Yes, a health to ourselves ere we scatter, | 55 |
| For the steamer won’t wait for the train, | |
| And the Legion that never was ’listed | |
| Goes back into quarters again. | |
| ’Regards! | |
| Goes back under canvas again. | 60 |
| Hurrah! | |
| The swag and the billy again. | |
| Here’s how! | |
| The trail and the packhorse again. | |
| Salue! | 65 |
| The trek and the lager again! | |
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