The Malabar s in 'arbour with the Jumner at 'er tail,
An' the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders for to sail.
Ho! the weary waitin' when on Khyber 'ills we lay,
But the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders 'ome to-day.
They'll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold an' wet an' rain,
All wearin' Injian cotton kit, but we will not complain.
They'll kill us of pneumonia for that's their little way
But damn the chills and fever, men, we're goin' 'ome to-day!
Troopin', troopin', winter's round again!
See the new draf's pourin' in for the old campaign;
Ho, you poor recruities, but you've got to earn your pay
What's the last from Lunnon, lads ? We're goin' there to-day.
Troopin', troopin', give another cheer
'Ere's to English women an' a quart of English beer.
The Colonel an' the Regiment an' all who 've got to stay,
Gawd's Mercy strike 'em gentle Whoop! we're goin' 'ome to-day.
We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome,
Our ship is at the shore,
An' you must pack your 'aversack,
For we won't come back no more.
Ho, don't you grieve for me,
My lovely Mary- Ann,
For I'll marry you yit on a fourp'ny bit
As a time-expired man.
THE WIDOW'S PARTY
"WHERE have you been this while away,
Johnnie, Johnnie?"
Out with the rest on a picnic lay.
Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!
