A FAT LITTLE SOLDIER.

YOUR spirit within may be bold as the best.
Your heart may be fierce as a flame,
With patriot passion your person possessed,
And ardour no peril can tame,
But no one who sees you will think of all that.
They only remark, "Oh, how jolly and fat!'

What's the use of grousing to people at home
Of the rations perpetual stew,
Lank roasts that disable your cutlery so,
Bread and jam they won't listen to you.
They will say, “There's not much HE should grumble about!
It's pretty privation makes privates so stout!"

You can't have the pleasure of bragging with pride
Of the strenuous toil of your days,
Of the leagues you go legging with chums by your side,
Or trenching in arduous ways;
The best you can do is your hardships to lump,
And smilingly suffer the fate of the plump!

When your day comes at last to embark for the fight,
A path to distinction to carve,
The Huns will despair as you roll into sight
The Briton whom nothing can starve!
Oh! bravely and buoyantly bounce to Berlin
But give up the thought that you'll ever be thin!